


Love is an Addiction

by bevans87



Series: Shea Trevelyan [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Best Friends, Dreams, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Humor, Miscarriage, Mystery, Nightmares, Scars, Self-Discovery, Sexual Experimentation, Smut, Spoilers, Stillbirth, Travel, Warrior/Mage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-10-13 19:24:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 276,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevans87/pseuds/bevans87
Summary: Inquisitor Shea Trevelyan, future wife of Cullen Rutherford, and mother of his unborn child, has had a whirlwind of a year.  With the wars behind her, the process of building a life and rebuilding Thedas begins.  She knows all too well that things are never uncomplicated for long.  Some unexpected changes are in the cards for her and she must learn how to adapt or die.





	1. I'm Gonna Love You

**Author's Note:**

> *** time/pov shift

“I’m sorry.  Did you just say you were a mage?”  Shea nods.  “But how?”

“I already said I don’t know.  At first I thought it was the orb.  Then… it just started happening when I wasn’t touching it.  Hell the orb is broken now!  I don’t know what’s happening!”

He rubs his hands up and down her arms.  “Love, it’s alright.  We’ll figure out how it happened.”

“Why can’t my life me easy for once?  This was all supposed to be over.  And now…”

He pulls her to his chest.  Her hand presses against his firm muscles and twirls his chest hair.  “It’s overwhelming to be sure, but I’m not going anywhere.  No matter what, I’m here.”

Shea sighs and relaxes into him.  “You are handling this way better than I am.”

He chuckles. “Well, I might have the same reaction as you if I wasn’t a mage for 21 years and then suddenly became one in a matter of minutes.”

She chuckles, “21 years?”

“I assume you’ve had a birthday since we’ve met.  Which was one year ago today.”

She smiles.  She has known him for a year.  It seems like much longer than that.  “Yes, I have had a birthday, but I forgot all about it.  So have you I imagine.”

“I have.  I’m 31 now.”

She smiles, “I finally get an actual number!”

“When is your birthday?”

She laughs, “You are an expert at changing the subject.  I was born during the All Soul’s Day Ball 9:21 Dragon.  I’m told mother was furious.”

He smirks, “Marchers.  Having a party on a day reserved for honoring the dead.  So, you had just turned 20 when you left Ostwick?”

“Close to it.  Happy Birthday to me!”  She laughs.  “What about you?”

He chuckles, “Like any good Fereldan, I was born in the dead of winter. 12 Wintermarch 9:11 Dragon to be exact.”

She is quiet for a moment as she thinks about today’s date, 25 Harvestmere 9:42 Dragon, the day Corypheus was defeated.  They have already missed hers, but she isn’t really upset about it.  His birthday is less than 3 months away, which is plenty of time to plan something for him.  Then she thinks about when baby might come.  _Let’s see.  12 days ago makes it the 13 th when we had sex in his office.  Which means… _She looks up at him, “If I’m correct, then our baby should be born 13 Solace 9:43 Dragon.”

He smiles and thinks it over.  “You think it’ll be on time?”

She shrugs.  “I have no idea.”

“Well, if that kid is a Rutherford, it’ll be early.  Every single one of my siblings, including myself, were.  I was actually a month early, but fully grown and strong.  So, I’m going to say… either 20 Justinian or 3 Solace.”

She laughs, “Those are very specific.”

“It’s a sound strategy.”

“Want to make this into a wager?”

He chuckles, “Alight.  What are we playing for?”

She licks her lips and thinks.  “How about… whomever gets the closest… gets to… name the baby.”

He laughs, “Those are some high stakes, my lady.”

“Trevelyans are either extremely punctual or fashionably late.  I was fashionably late, well not according to my mother.  She swears up and down that I planned to ruin her party.  Combine that with your family… I like my odds.”

“So, you’re saving 13 Solace?”

She runs her fingers along his chest, drawing patterns in his chest hair, “No.  I’m going to say… 10 Solace.”

“Why?”

She chuckles, “Well, you are always early and I am sometimes late.  But when we’re together we are both a touch early.”

“Well, I’m going to say she will be born…”

“She?”

 “Oh. Didn’t I say?  I think it’s going to be a girl.”

She laughs, “You literally just found out that I am pregnant and you already think you know it’s a girl.”

He nods, “Yep.  And I think she will be born 30 Justinian.”  She holds up her hand to him.  He takes it and they shake.  “Now I don’t want you getting upset when I win.”

She shakes her head.  “This competitive nature is going to get the better of us one day.”

“First this.  Then which of our names she’ll say first.”

She hums and sits up in his lap.  “So, where were we before I rudely interrupted?”  He runs his hand along her spine.  He kisses her nose and she lays on her back on the bed.  “Really quick, before we get back into this.  I was advised not to have victory sex, because I might set the curtains on fire.”

He laughs as his hand caresses her stomach.  “It’s a good thing we have access to water then.”

“This really doesn’t bother you?”

His moves up to trace around her breast.  She closes her eyes.  “You’re still the same woman I fell in love with.  This whole magic thing is weird, but it doesn’t change how I feel.  I will say that you have an advantage over young mages.”

“And what’s that?”

His fingers drag across her stiff peak.  She inhales sharply.  “You have been studying magic since you received the Anchor.  Your fiancé is an ex-templar who will be able to sense if you are about to lose control, not that I can do much at this point, but I can at least clear the area.  You have Dorian and Moira, and even Morrigan for a little while to help you.  Your experiences this year have prepared you for this like no mage before you.  And I should point out, that you could have easily roasted my brain with your spell, but you didn’t.”

She groans and looks at him, “Let’s not talk about how easy it would have been to hurt you just now.  Especially not when…”  His other hand joins the party and it tweaks her other nipple.  Her eyes close.  Her groan turns into a moan as she shifts under his hands.

“You were saying?”  She reaches over to stroke him and he knocks her hand away.  “Didn’t I say earlier that you were done working for today?”

She smiles with her eyes still closed.  “I don’t consider that work.”

He bends forward.  He brushes his lips against her.  His hands still working her hard peaks between his fingers.  She sticks out her tongue and licks his lips.  He takes her tongue into his mouth.  She raises her head to close the distance.  Her lips pressing into his.  He kisses down jaw and then her neck.  He licks the dips in her collarbones.  Tasting her sweat from her war ending battle.  He hums his pleasure into her skin. 

He looks up at her while her licks and kisses over every piece of skin he can. Bags are starting to form under her eyes from her lack of sleep due to the mark and then her battle.  So, he changes his plan.  Instead of dragging this out, making her beg for him.  He decides to wear her out even further, so that she will go to sleep when they are done.

His mouth replaces one of his hands on her breast.  Then one hand moves between her legs.  His rough fingers tracing over the smooth, hot flesh.  She moans and shifts.  Her legs fall apart.  He assaults her sensitive areas at the same time.  He slides two of his fingers inside her slick middle and uses the heel of his palm to stimulate her firm nub.  His moves his hand slow but pressing firmly.  Her hands grip the blanket on their bed.  She whimpers and moans.  Her mind clears off any and all worries.  His hands and mouth work her body like an expert musician with his instrument.

He curls his finger inside her massaging her on the inside.  She bends her knees and places her feet on the bed.   That’s usually his cue that she wants more.  Keeping all of his stimulation going, he shifts his body until he is kneeling between her legs.  She hooks her heels around his legs.  “Oh Cullen.”

He chuckles.  “Someone’s impatient.”

He picks up his speed just a hair and it’s enough to send her over the edge.  Her walls tighten around his fingers.  Her wet hot arousal drips over his hand.  He lets a deep rumble rise from his chest.  He looks up at her.  Her mouth is open, but no sound escapes.  Her body shudders and she releases her air.  It’s been a long time since he’s done that to her.  It reminds him of the first time he was able to make her come.  As she rides out her orgasm, he kisses up her neck.  He captures her lips.  She breathlessly kisses him.  His hand moves inside her, firm and quick.  She comes again her breath stolen by his mouth.  She feels like she’s drowning in him, which she is completely fine with.

He removes his hand from her.  He sits back for a moment to clean his hand with his tongue.  She pants and moans watching him do it.  She sits up and interlocks her fingers behind his neck.  He pulls her towards him.  He caresses her sides, tracing her curves.  Her squeezes her supple ass and picks her up.  Her legs slide on either side of him as he lowers her onto his throbbing erection.  He slips easily into her wet center.  She moans loudly.  She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her chest into his.  They grind and buck in rhythm.  Fucking each other face to face.  He shifts her slightly so that her clit is pressing and rubbing against him.  She cries out and pulls him in tighter.  His forehead rests on her shoulder.

She nibbles on his ear and moans against the side of his face.  Their breathing is labored and his muscles tense around her.  She breathes into his ear, moaning his name repeatedly.  He kisses up her neck and breathing her name between each one.

She hugs him as tight as she can, an intense orgasm rushes through her.  His body touching her in all the right places.  As she struggles to breathe, she feels something building deep in her gut.  She tries to pull back from him in fear that magic might be about to burst from her.  “Don’t worry.  I’ve got you.”  She hugs him tightly trying to ignore this feeling.  She lets him take complete control.  His hips and cock doing the work.  She shakes in his arms.  He leans his head back and pushes the hair from her face.  “Look at me, love.”  She opens her eyes and stares into his.  “Just relax.  Let whatever happens happen.”

“But…”

“No buts.  Just do it.  Trust me.”

She lets herself get lost again in his eyes.  Her hips join his motion before she even realizes it.  Her body is building toward another large orgasm.  She closes her eyes, focusing on his tight hold on her.  The way he feels pressed so tight together that no light can pass through.  Her head falls back and his lips press against her neck.  Her breath gets caught in her throat.  Her whole body tenses and curls around him.  Her walls squeeze him tight and it sends him careening into the abyss.  She soaks him with her release.  The cry breaks free and bounces of the walls.  He slows his motions letting her come down from her orgasm easy and his erection deflates inside her.

He chuckles as she goes limp in his arms, just barely holding onto him enough to not fall over.  “Well, the curtains aren’t on fire.”

She lets out a quiet laugh.  “Is something… else… on fire?”

“No, love.  There was no magic.  But if I’m right in assuming, that was probably the best orgasm of your life.”

She lets her air out in a burst.  “You are… correct.”

He leans forward and lays her down on the bed.  He crawls over her and then lays next to her on his side.  “That’s what happens when you actually let go.  I mean look at me.”  She sits up enough to look down at his groin.  His whole crotch is dripping wet, the liquid running between his legs.  “That’s all you.”

“What really?”

“Yep.”

She slumps back against the bed, “Maker, what did you do to me?”

“Just combined all the things I know you like at once.  And then not stopping any of them until I got my desired result.”

She looks over at him.  The smug look on his face makes her smile.  “You knew that would happen?”

“Only if you let yourself go.  Let go of every care or worry, let every tiny thought leave your mind.  Completely relax and give yourself over.  Like last night for me.  I didn’t think about your mark flaring, or Corypheus trying to kill you, or anything.  Nothing matter expect my need for you.  And even that left my mind.  My brain just completely shut off.  I knew you needed that too.  The weight has been lifted and you deserved to have just one tiny moment of complete release.”

She reaches up and touches his sweaty face.  “I love you.”

He chuckles, “I love you, too.”  He moves off the bed and pulls the covers back.  He picks her up and sets her back down and pulls the blankets over her.  He moves to the other side and climbs under them himself.  He pulls her to him and she rolls to rest her head on his chest.  He adjusts her so that she is laying between his legs.  She places her palms on his chest and looks out at him.  She is seconds away from falling asleep.  “Get some rest, love.  We get to sleep in tomorrow.”

She smiles and kisses his chest right over his heart.  She settles down.  He runs his fingers through her hair and hums to her as her breathing levels out.  He feels her go completely limp and her lips part.  He feels her hot breath on his chest and smiles.  He lays there, watching her sleep with a massive smile on his face.

***

Shea hasn’t put on her uniform in a week.  She has decided that she is on vacation in Skyhold until further notice.  They don’t even argue.  Josephine can handle all the requests for an audience, Cullen can handle sending troops out further and further away to aid in reconstruction or some other force related issue, and Leliana is training scouts to do her job just in case.  Shea informed her that she supported the spymaster for Divine.  The Grand Clerics haven’t come back with the vote, but everyone knows that when the Inquisitor suggests something, people are almost always going to follow it.

And even though she’s on “vacation,” she takes to sitting in her throne or reading books in the mage tower or just walking the grounds.  Her hair is always down and curled.  She wears boots, leggings, a skirt that comes to the knees and flows in the back, and an off the shoulder shirt.  She would wear her usual corset with it, but being five weeks pregnant, according the healer she spoke to, meant morning sickness could come any day now. And then to tease Cullen from time to time, she opts for no undergarments.  She doesn’t even strap on a dagger as she would before.

She goes into the garden one day and just sits on a bench looking up at the clouds.  Winter has fully set in, but it doesn’t bother her for once.  Her skin reacts as it normally would, erect nipples pressing against the fabric of her shirt, goosebumps on her arms.  But she feels warm.  She figures there could be a number of things causing that.  Magic.  Being pregnant.  She doesn’t know nor does she care.  She is content to just hang around and enjoy herself.  She leans back on the bench her eyes closed, soaking in the sun on her skin.  She feels someone sit next to her, but doesn’t look to see who it is.   They would let her know soon enough.

“Well, don’t you look happy.”

She smiles, “Good afternoon, Morrigan.”

“Skyhold is a much happier place now.  So different than before.”

“Isn’t it great?”

“I’m sure something will come along and…”

Shea holds up her hand, “This is a no negativity zone.  If you have concerns of the kind, go talk to Cullen.”

“Have you given up your roll as Inquisitor?”

Shea sits up and opens her eyes.  “Of course not.  But I’ve been going practically none stop for a year.  I think I’ve more than earned a break.”

Morrigan chuckles, “I would say so.  Danielle did the same thing after the archdemon was killed, or so I hear.  Alistair was less than pleased as he was forced into being king by her and then left to rule a country by himself.”

Shea laughs, “Sort of feels like I’m doing that now.  But they’ve got it under control.  If not, I’m sure I’ll hear about it.  I’ll have to go off and close rifts eventually.  But until then, I plan on doing absolutely nothing.”

“Nothing?  Not even practice your new skills?”

“No one has offered besides Dorian.  And he’s on his own vacation right now.  Those two were with me every step of the way for the most part, so I gave them permission to go off and do… whatever it is they want to do.  I gave them two weeks.  Figured that would be enough time.”

“So, you’ve been a mage for a week and not a single person has tried to figure out what happened or tried to train you?”

Shea shrugs, “Moira has decided not to look for Solas and is instead studying the broken orb to figure out what’s happening.  She doesn’t feel comfortable training me though.”

“Why not?”  Shea motions to her stomach.  “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Got me.”

Morrigan stands.  “Then, until Kieran and I are ready to leave, I will train you.  Or at least see the extent of your abilities.  I’ve seen you come and go from the mage tower.  Have you been reading?”

“I’ve been reading books on Fade magic and a few other related types since the conclave, but short answer yes.”

“Excellent.  Tell me which ones you’ve read and understand.”  Shea starts listing off every magic book she can remember.  Most of them belonged to Solas and he took those with him.  “That is an extensive list.  Let me ask you this.  Can you summon your magic into your hand?  No spell just the raw power?”

“No idea.  Everything I’ve done has been almost automatic.  Cullen had a headache and the spell activated before I could lock it down.  I thought about healing all of you at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and it happened.”

“Did you feel connected to those healing spells?”

Shea thinks for a moment, “Yes.  Like Dorian for instance.  As the magic hovered around him, I could feel where his injuries were.  After that, I could feel the bones, muscle, and flesh knit back together.”

“Would some of his injuries have scarred?”

“Absolutely.  The cut on his arm was so deep it almost hit the bone.”

“You have a natural talent it would seem.  Yet you lack control.  You can’t stop a spell that is in progress.  This is almost as dangerous as not being able to control when the spell is summoned.  As a warrior, your instincts have trained you to act first when something needs to be done in battle.  That strategy could get you killed as a mage.  Or kill someone you aren’t intending to.  So for your first lesson.  Summon a ball of your pure magic, no spell just energy, into your hand.  Hold the ball there for increasing lengths of time.  5 seconds, 10 seconds, 15 seconds, and so on.  It might seem silly at first, but this is the base level of control.  Don’t skip time intervals or the lesson is pointless.”

Shea nods, “I can do that.  I think.  Feels like I’m start all over.”

“In a way, you are.  The warrior instinct completely conflicts with the mage instincts.  They can eventually be merged, but until you have mastered magic, do not even attempt it.”

“Alright.  Here goes.”

“You can sit if you need to.  The first few times will take a lot out of you.”  Shea shifts on the bench.  Morrigan steps back a few steps to watch from a safe distance.  She holds out her marked hand.  “Use the other one.”

“Why?”

“We know your left hand is used to magic.  Your right hand needs to catch up.”

“So, summoning this is like opening a rift?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Shea takes a breath and holds out her right hand.  She stares at her palm.  She can feel the magic flowing in her veins, but nothing happens.  She shakes out her hand and closes her eyes.  She imagines what she wants.   She feels the warmth travel up her right arm.  She opens her eyes and stares at her palm.  A tiny white light beads up on her hand.  Then stops.  She feels it retreating.  “Stay there you…”

She sighs as it fades.  Morrigan nods, “Would you be pleased to know the even on your second try you have done better than most mages I have seen?”

“Yes, actually.”

“What I’m asking you to do is not easy.  To summon magic without purpose is very advanced, but is also harmless should something go wrong.  Mostly.  Keep at it.  I’ll come check on you later.”

“Before you go… why am I not cold anymore?  Normally I’m freezing my ass of in winter.”

“That’s your magic.  Your instincts have it active whether you know it or not.  Once you master your control, you can turn that off to conserve your energy.”

Morrigan turns and heads to the throne room.  Shea takes a deep breath and focuses again on her palm.  _Magic is energy.  It works just like the mark.  Picture what you want._   She watches the white light bead up in her hand again.  It grows a little more this time before fading away.  She lays back on the bench.  She starts with her fist closed and repeats.  Each time the ball of light grows.  Finally, after hours of just hanging out in the garden, she summons a bright ball of white light the size of her fist.  _Now to hold it there._   It takes a few more tries.  Slowly but surely she holds it 5 seconds.  Then 10.  Then 15.   Then 20.  Then 25.  She smiles brightly.

Morrigan comes back with Kieran in tow.  “Hey!  I did it!”  She holds out her hand.  The ball quickly swells into her hand and she counts to 30 before letting it sink down.

Kieran’s eyes go wide, “You’re a mage?!”

“I am now.  This is new for me.”

Morrigan shakes her head.  “You’ve done well.  And watching you pull the magic back into yourself lets me know how truly powerful you will be.  Normally the magic is released.  Kieran, would you show her.”  He hold out his hand and ball of blue light fills his hand.  He counts to some unknown number and then the ball wisps away.  “That is not what you did.  Would try what she did for me, son?”  He holds his hand out again, and again the ball quickly forms.  He counts and then tries up pull the ball back into his hand.  He gets half before he gives up and lets it wisp away.

“I’m sorry, Mother.”

“It’s quite alright.  Run along now.  The Inquisitor and I need to talk.”  Kieran waves and rushes up the stairs at the back of the garden.  “He’s going to be trying that all night until he gets it.”

“So I’ve been doing it wrong?”

“Not wrong.  Just not exactly what I asked.  Try releasing it this next time.  Remember to increase the time.”  Shea holds out her and the ball forms quickly.  She counts to 35.  She has no idea how to just let it go, to let it wisp away.  So, she imagines it and sure enough it does.

“That was harder somehow.”

Morrigan chuckles.  “That’s the warrior in you.  You’re not used to expelling energy without purpose.  So, your natural instinct is to pull it back in.  But to cast a spell is to use energy.  A controlled amount.  Practicing it this way will prepare you for when you actually cast.  I imagine all that healing during the battle drained you.”

“It did, yes.”

“You’re doing well.  Keep doing this and nothing else.  Let the magic go after you’ve held it.  Once I’m satisfied, we’ll move onto something else.”

“Thank you, Morrigan.”

“It is my pleasure to teach someone with such promise.”

“Does the color mean anything?  I noticed Kieran’s was blue.”

Morrigan chuckles, “It’s his favorite color.  You can attempt to change it.  It’s no any more complicated than what you are already doing.”

Shea nods, “I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.  Thanks again.”

Morrigan heads off after Kieran.  Shea stays in the garden practicing until the sun starts to set. Her stomach grumbles and she realizes she hasn’t eaten all day.  She stands and heads for the tavern.  She smiles at Krem as she walks in.

“Inquisitor!  It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you in here.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”  She sits down at the table with him.  “So, how are things?”

“Eh.  Can’t complain.  The Chief left the Chargers under my command while he and Dorian are gone.  Not much to do really.”

“I’m sure Cullen could find you something to do if you wanted.”

“Nah.  It’s nice to just sit around for once.”

She motions to a serving girl and motions between the two of them.  She nods.  The girl brings them each a pint and a plate of food.  She picks up the tankard and goes to take a drink.  Her nose wrinkles and she sets it down.  She waves to the girl again.  “Could I get water or something?  I don’t think this is going to… agree with me.”  She nods and takes the tankard away.

Krem scratches his head, “Ale not doing it for ya?”

“Apparently not.  Guess the baby doesn’t want that.”

“Baby?”

Shea laughs, “I keep forgetting that people don’t know I’m pregnant.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes.  It was planned.”

“Oh well in that case, I guess I’m drinking for you tonight.”

The serving girls brings a glass of water.  Krem smiles at her, “Bring the Inquisitor’s drinks to me.”  She nods.

“Do I sense an attraction there?”

“What with Emily?  No, she’s nice at all, but she doesn’t say much.”

“Are you over Cassandra then?”

Krem laughs, “Yes.  I don’t know what I was thinking there.  We’re too alike.”

“Nothing wrong with that.  Cullen and I are very similar.”

“And that might work for you, but I don’t think that’s what I want.”

Shea nods, “I get that.”

They eat in silence for a little while, “So… word is you’re a mage now.”

Shea nods, “Don’t know how, but yes.  I’m not even sure you can call me a mage.  Maybe an apprentice.”

“But you’ve got magic now?”

“Yep.”

“Set anything on fire yet?”

Shea laughs, “No.  I’ve only been able to do healing magic so far.  Not that I’ve tried mind you.  I can’t control it yet and I might burn down Skyhold.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want that.”

“There you are.”  Shea turns to see Cullen entering the tavern.  He kisses her forehead.  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

She pats the seat next to her and he sits.  “I’ve been in the garden most of today.  Practicing.”

“How’s that going?”

“Pretty good.  I learned a new trick.  It’s meant to help be gain control.”

He nods, “The ball of light thing?”

“How’d you… right former templar.  I’m sure you’ve seen countless mages to that.”

“Indeed I have.”  He looks into her cup, “You’re in a tavern and you aren’t drinking.  Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just passing them to Krem.  I don’t think the baby likes ale.”

He smiles.  “According to Mia, that’s the first sign of morning sickness.”

She groans, “Great.”  She takes drink of water then looks over at him, “Mia?  You talked to her?”

“Wrote her a letter a few days ago and used Sky to send it.  Her response had tear stains on it.  She can’t wait to meet you whenever we get free time.  And she’s excited to meet the newest Rutherford when she arrives.”

Krem chuckles, “You can’t possibly know the sex yet.”

“Cullen has it in his head that it’s a girl.”

“If you’d let me bet on it, I would.”

“One bet in regards to our child is enough for now.”

Krem smiles, “What’s the bet?”

“Shea thinks the baby with be born 10 Solace.  I think _she_ will be born 30 Justinian.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Winner gets to name the baby.”

Krem inhales excitedly, “Can I get in on that?”

Varric comes rushing over.  “Did I hear something about a bet?”

Krem slides him one of his spare ales, “They have a wager going on when the baby will be born.”

“Baby?”

Cullen laughs, “We should probably make an announcement or something,”

Krem nods, “The Inquisitor is pregnant.”

“Well, shit!  A mage and popping out kids.”  Varric claps Cullen on the back.  “Well done.”

“Hey!  He’s not the one having to carry it around!”

“So, back to this wager.”  Varric pulls a pad of paper and a pencil from his pocket.  “As the Inquisition’s wagermaster and resident storyteller, it is my duty to make sure this is done fairly.”

“They are betting on when the baby will be born.”  Varric scribbles on the pad, “Cullen has wagered that… _she…_ ”  Cullen raises his glass to Krem, “will be born 30 Justinian.  The Inquisitor said 10 Solace.  Winner names the kid.”

“And is this wager open others?”

Shea looks over at Cullen who looks back at her.  She shrugs.  “Sure, but the prize needs to be amended.”

“Go ahead.”

“If the winner is anyone other than one of us, they can name the baby but only if we approve the name.  For instance, if Sera wins and she offers the name Arrow, we have reserve the right to reject it.”

Sera calls from the balcony, “Wuts wrong with arrow?”

“It was an example, Sera.”

Varric nods, “Seems pretty fair to me.  We should do one for gender too.  Maybe earn you some extra coin.  Kids are expensive after all.  But no magic to hurry it along or to get a read on what it is.”

Shea shrugs, “I’m happy with whatever it turns out to be.  Cullen on the other hand has his heart set on a girl.”

“I’ll be happy either way.  But I still think it’ll be a girl.”

“Krem, you want in on this?”

“Yeah.  Put me down for… wait, when did this happen?”

Cullen chuckles, “I think most of the Inquisition knows when it happened.”

They all laugh.  “Alright, then put me down for… 8 Solace.”

“Alright.  I’m putting myself down for 13 Solace.”

Sera comes skipping up, “Wut are we bettin’?”

“When the kid is going to pop out.”

“Oh!  20 Solace!”

Shea laughs, “Are we this bored that we are making a bet for something that’s not going to happen for months?”

“It’s always a good time to make a wager on something.  For example, there’s a wager going for when Bull and Dorian will get back.  One for how long it’ll take the Seeker to kill me.  And another one for who will be the next Divine.”

“Who’s winning on that one?”

“Cassandra.”

Shea smirks, “Then I’ll bet 5 gold on Leliana.”

Varric makes the note.  “Alright.  You have it on you?”

Shea holds her hand out to Cullen.  He rolls his eyes and pulls the coin out of his pocket.  He drops it in her hand and she hands it to Varric.  She looks over at Cullen, “Have you eaten anything today?”

“I had lunch earlier.”

She waves at the serving girl and points to Cullen.  She nods and goes to get him a plate.  “Well, now you can have dinner with us.”

Cole comes walking down the stairs, “Hello!”

“Hey, Cole!  Coming to join us?”

He sits down next to Shea, “I’m not hungry but you sounded like you were having fun.”

“Glad you decided to join us.”

“Care to join the little wager we have going, kid?”

“Is it right to bet on a baby?”

Shea touches his arm, “There’s not harm in it.  Just a little bit of fun.”

“How does it work?”

“You just try to guess when our baby will be born.  If you are the closest one to being right, you get to name the baby or at least offer up a name.”

“What day should I say?”  Varric runs down the list for him.  “So, I should guess something around then?”

“If that’s what you feel like doing.”

He thinks about it for a moment.  “I like the number 5.”

“So, 5 Solace?”

“Yes.”

“Could I make a bet, Commander?”

Cullen turns to see Jim standing at the end of the table.  “If you life.”

“Is this a coin bet or…?”

“Nope.  Just for fun.”

He looks down at the report in his hand then back at Varric.  “14 Solace.”

Cullen chuckles, “Am I the only one who thinks she’ll be born in Justinian?”  He sees the report in his hands, “Is that for me?”

“No.  It’s for the Inquisitor, but you told me not to give her reports.”

Cullen holds out his hand and Jim hands him the report.  Jim salutes and leaves the tavern.  Cullen starts reading the report, “Reading my reports now, Commander?”

“Are you still on vacation?”

“Yes.”

He smirks, “Then yes I am.”  He sighs, “It’s a rift report from Ferelden.”

She sighs, “Well, that’s my cue.”  She holds out her hand and he gives her the report.  “Denerim.  Amaranthine.  Highever.  Several in Lothering.  And…”  She looks up at him, “South Reach.”

“Where in South Reach?”

She hands him back the report.  “It doesn’t say on the report, but King Alistair’s people sent a map.  The note at the bottom says it’s in the war room.”

“I should go look at it.”  She pulls on his arm to make him sit.  “Eat your food, Commander.  Seeing where they are isn’t going to solve anything.  If Mia and the rest of your family were in danger, she would have told you long ago when the rifts formed.”

“This could have been caused by Corypheus opening the Breach again.”

“She still would have told you in her latest letter.  Who better than her heroic brother right?”

He sighs and settles back in his seat, “You’re right.  Of course, you are.  If I could request making that our first stop?”

“I believe Lothering is on the way and they have reported more than one.  So, we should stop there first and then we can head for South Reach.  Should you write her to let her know we’re coming?”

He smirks, “It might be fun to surprise them.”

“Then I guess my vacation is over for now.”

“Dorian and Bull’s too.”

She looks around the tavern.  “Not necessarily.”

“Oh?”

“Well, there are still loads of people here.”

“Shea, you always travel with at least one mage.”

“We have a mage.”

“I don’t mean you.”

“Moira.”

“She is an ambassador.  We can’t put her at risk, even if she would want to.”

Krem clears his throat.  “Inquisitor, you mentioned earlier that Cullen might have use of the Chargers.”

“Right.”

“We have Dalish.”

“Hey that’s a great idea!  Cullen, we can travel with the Chargers.”

He laughs, “Can you imagine what my family will say?”

“Your family doesn’t have to see us Commander.  Unless the rift is near them or they live in the village.”

“They have a small farm.”

“Then we travel with you, deal with these rifts, get back out there.  We’re getting a little restless.  We can stay at the inn, I’m sure they have one.”

“Sounds like a plan then.”

Shea nods, “Sure does.  Krem, we’ll see you in the war room bright and early.”

“The war room.  Really?”

“Certainly.  You’re in command aren’t you?  We’ll need you there to help plan.”

“I’ll be there.”

Cullen smirks, “Alright that’s enough work for now.  Are you finished eating?”

“Are you?”

He looks down at his barely touched plate.  “I suppose not.”

She smiles at him and runs her finger down his scar.  He smirks.  “Since I’m on duty again, is there anything I missed that I should know about?”

“Vivienne is going back to Orlais in a few days.  She’s resuming her duties as the Court Enchanter until the fate of the Circle is determined.  Another request from the Chantry has arrived asking Cassandra and Leliana to go to the Grand Cathedral.”

Varric shakes his head, “Which means I have to wait for her to get back before I can leave for Kirkwall.”

“What if she’s elected?”

“Then I told her I’d swing by Ostwick to visit your brother.  Let him know before word reaches him.”

Shea runs her fingers around the lip of her cup, “He’s going to be very upset if she’s elected.”

They lapse into a momentary silence.  Cullen taps her arm.  “Um…”

She looks at him.  “Yes?”  He motions to the cup in front of her.  She looks at it and groans.  It’s frozen solid.  “Damn it.”  She pushes back from the table and rushes out the door.  She leans against the outside wall of the tavern and crosses her arms over her chest.  She didn’t even feel it happen.  Was that normal?  She can’t answer that question but what she does know is that she is a danger to others if she can freeze water solid without even noticing she was doing it.  Maybe she needs to get away from Skyhold and everyone she cares about until she has a firm control over it.  She holds out her right hand, a honey colored ball forms in her hand.  She stares at it, wondering why the color changed without her telling it to.  She lets the magic wisp away.

“You’ve been practicing, I see.”  Her heart jumps into her chest.  It has only been a week, but hearing his voice makes her realize how much she truly missed him.  She quickly looks around and when she sees him, she launches off the wall and her arms fly around the mage’s neck.  Dorian catches her and presses his palms into her back.  His velvety voice hums in her ear.  “I take it you missed me.”

“You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“You had to know it wouldn’t last two full weeks.  Fine wine and whatever that swill he drinks is hard to come by on the road.”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

“I can tell.”  He sets her down.  “And where is your strapping fiancé?”

“Inside.  I think he’s giving me a minute to calm down.  Or I’ve scared him.”

“Why would you have scared him?”

She sighs and looks down at the ground, “I froze my drink.”

“I take it that wasn’t on purpose?”

“I didn’t even notice it had happened until he pointed it out to me.”

Cullen shakes his head, “Welcome back, Dorian.  And I’m not scared of you, love.”

“Well, I am.  I could hurt someone.”

Dorian chuckles, “Sweet, baby mage.  This is one of the most common problems when mages first manifest.”

Cullen nods, “That’s how templars were able to find them.  Villagers report strange fires or rivers freezing in the heat of summer.  These children typically can’t control when it happens.”

“Yes, but apostates who’ve never been in a Circle learn to master it.”

“Even an apostate has to practice and study their own abilities.”

Dorian chuckles, “You’re such a perfectionist, my dear.  A perfectionist with zero patience.  Like all things, magic takes time.  You have to allow yourself that time.”

Cullen stands behind her and squeezes her shoulders.  “You are surrounded by people who can teach you.  Dorian, Morrigan, Grand Enchanter Fiona.  Each with a different method.”

Dorian nods, “Tevinter, Apostate, Circle mage.  That pretty much covers it.”

“Moira won’t teach me.”

“She’s Dalish, love.  They value their secrets.  It’s nothing personal.”

She leans her head back to rest against him.  “I’m just so worried about hurting someone.”

Dorian smiles, “Which is honestly part of your problem.  You are so focused on what might happen that you can’t focus on what is happening.  Do that ball thing you were doing.”  Shea steps away from Cullen.  She holds out her right hand and the honey colored ball of light from.  “Now, do the left hand at the same time.”  She holds out her left hand and the ball bursts from her hand.  She grits her teeth trying to hold it steady.  “Relax.  You can’t bend it to your will.  It’s not a training dummy.  It’s about balance.”  He places his hands under hers.  “Your left side is more accustomed to magic.  And because you’re used to hurling it a rifts without much control, your magic behaves in that same way.”

Cullen nods, “You were using your left hand on that cup.  And my head the other night.”

“And you were holding the orb in that hand.”  She nods.  She pulls the magic back into herself.  “Well, well.  You have more control than you give yourself credit for.  I want to try something, if that’s alright.” She nods.  He places her hand on the back of his and then turns his palm up. He summons a ball of fire into his hand.  “Did you feel that?”

“I’m not sure.” He closes his fist around the fire to extinguish it and opens his palm.  Cullen licks his lips.  It’s been a long time since he’s just stood watching mages practice.  It makes his skin itch. Though his memories don’t bother him as much as they used to, they still bother him.  Before Dorian can summon the fire again, she removes her hand from his.  “We should stop.”

“Why?”

She looks over at Cullen.  “He’s getting a headache and I can feel myself starting to react to it”

He sighs, “You need to practice.  I’ll just go inside and wait for you.”  He turns her face to him and kisses her. “I’ll be fine.  Just some old memories.”

“We’ll talk about that later.”

He smirks and kisses her.  “Don’t stay out here too long.”  He goes back into the tavern. 

Varric meets him as he enters, “She alright?”

“A little spooked, but otherwise fine.  Dorian’s helping her now.”

“Sparkler’s back?” Cullen nods.  Varric pulls out his pad, “Alright.  Krem!  You win the pot!”

Krem raises his glass, “No one knows the Chief better than me.  Round of drinks on me!”

Cullen returns to his seat and picks at his food.  He may not fear her, but if she can’t control herself, then she shouldn’t be on the road, much less meeting his family.  How could he put them in danger of being hurt by an out of control mage?  He feels a pang of guilt thinking that about the woman who will be his wife.  But he’s sure that she’s had the same thought.  Maybe he should give it another week before they go out in field.  She seems to be progressing quickly based on his past experience and observations.  But the longer they wait, the longer the people of Ferelden must suffer demons.  He quickly finishes his meal and excuses himself. 

Shea sees him leave the tavern and head off somewhere with purpose in his steps.  Dorian snaps in her face.  “Focus.  I know he’s pretty, but this is important.”

“My apologies, Master Pavus.”

“Now, let’s try that again.”

She places her hand palm up in Dorian’s as he continues to instruct her well into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found myself getting really caught up with dates towards the end of part one, so that's why there's so many in this chapter. Bare with me, they will be less frequent.
> 
> UPDATED July 26, 2018


	2. Freak on a Leash

A few days later, Shea wakes up find that Cullen is hugging the far edge of the bed and snoring away.  He has all of the covers and is completely covered by them.  She sits up and wipes sweat from her forehead.  She looks the ball that is her fiancé and wonders how in the world she is so hot while he is freezing.  She slept through the night, but she feels very tired.  She reaches over and shakes him gently.  His snoring tops and he has to dig is way out of the blankets.  His head pops up, his hair is a mess.

“Something wrong?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

“I’m fine.  Freezing, but fine.”

She kisses his forehead.  “Why are you so cold?”

He chuckles.  “You.”

“Me?”

“I’m not sure what you were dreaming about, but you turned into a block of ice.”

“Really?  Because I’m burning up right now.”

He untwists the blankets from himself and sits up.  He places a hand on her forehead.  “You still feel pretty cold.”

She groans and lays back on the bed.  “Fucking magic.  It has to be.”

“I can go get someone if you want.”  He crawls over to her and looks into her eyes.  “Other than being hot, how do you feel?”

“Tired.  Maybe a little sore.”

“What have you and Dorian been doing every night?”

“A bunch of things.”

He places his hand on her forehead again.  “I have an idea of what might be going on, but it’s not something to take lightly, at least for me.  I’d like to get someone to come up for a second opinion.”

“Which mage did you have in mind?”

“Morrigan.  She is a mother after all.”

“What’s that have to do with my magic?”

He kisses her clammy and cold forehead, “Just… if I’m right, I want to make sure the solution is safe for her.  Stay there.  I’ll be right back.”  He kiss her and climbs out of bed.  He throws the blankets over her and she starts to kick them off.  “Shea.  I think you might have a fever and your magic is trying to help.”  She sighs and pulls the covers back over her.  He grabs a shirt, pants, boots, and a pair of socks from his wardrobe.  He quickly changes out of his sleep pants and into his casual clothes before leaving the room.

She sighs and closes her eyes.  She tries to focus on the magic inside her to see if both the heat and the cold are active.  She had managed with Dorian’s help to turn off her magic internal heater, so she figured she could do it again.  Her brows furrow.  She can’t feel anything except a faint buzz in the center of her chest.  She open her eyes, holds up her hand, and tries to summon the ball in her hand.  Nothing happens.  She growls and places her hand back under the stifling coverings.

Cullen comes back with Morrigan and the witch puts her hand on Shea’s forehead.  “I think you’re right.  The cold is definitely magic, but it’s fading.”

“She has been training for a few hours with Dorian every night since he got back in addition to training with you.  I think she might be depleted.”

“And she wouldn’t know how recharge herself in the Fade since she hasn’t had the training.”

Shea rolls her eyes, “I am awake you know.”

“Did you enter the Fade last night?”

“Yes.”

Morrigan motions for her to continue, “And?”

“And what?  It was just a normal nightmare.”

Cullen takes her hand, “You were having a nightmare?”

“They come and go now that he’s dead.  But for a while there, I had them every night on the road.”

Cullen looks up at Morrigan, “What do you think about the other thing I said?”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I’ll be fine.  What I’m worried about is Shea and the baby.”

Shea attempts to sit up, but gets shoved back down by both of them.  “Ugh.  Can you please stop talking in riddles?  It’s making me dizzy.”

Morrigan puts her hands on her hips, “Have you checked yourself over yet?”

“I can’t summon the ball of light and I can only feel a small buzz in my chest.”

She nods, “You’re tapped out.  It’s why you feel so weak.  I’ve heard of mages who are completely drained becoming fevered.  Commander, your solution would fix it.  But once she starts she’s going to have to learn to maintain on her own or she’ll have to take it more often.”

Shea growls, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cullen traces the lines in her palm, “Mages and templars have one thing in common.  The big difference is a mage can build it back up on their own over time, but templars can’t.”

She holds his eye contact.  “You’re talking about Lyrium.”

“Yes.  And when a mages uses too much magic or a templar blocks them from it, they can go into withdrawals.  They aren’t deadly for a mage, just painful.  This is easily fixed by taking Lyrium or resting and drawing the energy from the Fade.  Or that’s my understanding at least.”  He looks up at Morrigan.

“That’s a very accurate description.”

He looks back at Shea, “So, that’s what’s happening to you right now.  But unlike my withdrawals, yours will not go away until your magic is restored.”

“Cullen’s biggest concern is the stress this is going to put on the baby while we take you through a crash course in how to do it yourself.  I happen to agree.  Your body and magic are instinctually fighting to protect the both of you.  It’s why you feel so cold to us.  But that magic will also fade out.  That buzz in your chest is this spell and the last of your mana.  Once it runs out, you’ll be consumed with withdrawal.”

“And that’s bad for the baby?”

Morrigan nods, “Yes.”

“And is Lyrium bad for the baby?”

“If magic doesn’t hurt the child, than neither will Lyrium.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

Morrigan sighs, “I never took it while I was pregnant.”

Cullen rubs the stubble on his chin.  “I… might be able to find someone who has… or she might know someone who has.  She… is currently in Skyhold.”

They both look at him.  “Who is this person?”

“Grand Enchanter Fiona.  Let’s just say that I know some things I probably shouldn’t.”

Shea sighs, “Go get her.”  Cullen kisses her hand and heads down the stairs.  “Now that he’s gone be blunt with me.”

“Lyrium doesn’t work the same for mages as it does templars.  It’s a part of you and only works to boost your magic.  I highly doubt it would do anything untoward.”

“Will I become addicted?”

“No.”  Morrigan touches her forehead.  “You’re going to need to decide quickly.”

Shea closes her eyes.  She knows Morrigan is right.  She can feel the spell waning.  “Let’s give in a few more minutes.  Maybe she’ll know for sure.”

They wait in silence for Cullen to return.  Grand Enchanter Fiona enters the room without him.  “Commander Cullen explained what was happening.  I can say from experience that when a pregnant mage takes Lyrium it doesn’t impact the child.  He told me to give you this and his blessing should you decide to take it.”

Shea nods.  She knows why he can’t be there.  Her orders were clear and he is still struggling with his addiction.  She sits up and Morrigan doesn’t move to stop her.  “How do you know for sure?  If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I was pregnant once.  I can’t go into details, but I did take Lyrium in that time.  My child was and is fine.”

She holds out the bottle of Lyrium.  Shea feels like crying.  She doesn’t want to take it.  She thought she’d never have to because she had left the templar life planned for her behind.  She never had to take up the leash.  She also knew he’d feel it in her.  Feel it in her belongings, since she would now have to carry it around.  And what if this magic thing was temporary, which she prays every night for it to be, what would taking this Lyrium do to her in the long run?  Would she have to kick it like Cullen was trying to?  Would she be strong enough for that?  She takes the bottle from Fiona and rolls it in her hands.  She can’t hear it singing as Cullen claimed to.  Maybe that is because she hasn’t taken it yet.  She looks at Morrigan and Fiona out of the corner of her eye.  They are watching her with sympatric eyes as if they know all of her fears are tied to the man who is no doubt pacing downstairs.

The cold spell snaps.  She feels it recoil and her energy completely drains.  Sweat pours down her face.  She pulls the cork for the bottle.  If this is what she has to protect her child from the pain she can feel building, then there is no question as to what she should do.  She knocks it back.  The cool liquid rushes instantly through her body as soon as she swallows.  The fever breaks and every muscle relaxes.  She feels powerful and rested.  She summons her ball of light, now a bright glowing blue.  She holds it there for a while then performs a trick Dorian showed her.  She turns the ball to solid ice, switches it to her other hand, and turns it back into a ball of light.  She then lets it wisp away.

She looks over at the mages.  They are staring at her with impressed expressions.  She smirks, “Sorry Morrigan.  Dorian’s been helping me control a more dangerous aspect of my magic.  I accidentally froze a cup of water the other day.”

“You’re going to need to work on learning replenish your mana sooner rather than later.  You are advancing very quickly.”

Fiona nods, “Especially for someone who has only been a mage for a little over a week.”

Morrigan nods.  “We need to set up a training schedule for you.  Dorian, Fiona, and I will discuss it.”

“We’ll figure out which of us will be better suited to teaching you various aspects.  From what I just saw, you might be able to resume your duties within a few weeks.”

She groans, “Weeks?  I’m the Inquisitor.  I have responsibilities I am already behind on because the Commander won’t let me leave until I’ve got this under control.”

Morrigan smiles, “Inquisitor, we aren’t suggesting that you will merely have it under control.  We’re saying that you could potentially be a fully functional mage.  You will still have much to learn, but you’ll know everything we can teach you from the basics of control to some advanced spell work.”

“As you said, you are the Inquisitor.  The mages owe you for everything you’ve done you us.  It is the least we can do then to make you battle ready in that time.  If all goes well, then we can get you working with a specialist soon.  I have a strong feeling I know which one you will select.”

Morrigan chuckles, “But we can’t get ahead of ourselves.  You will be monitored closely and will be staying in Skyhold until all three of us feel you are ready.”

“Enjoy your morning, Inquisitor.  Someone will come find you at midday.”  The mages bow slightly to her and leave the room.

It is strange for Shea to see these very different mages agreeing to work together as her instructors without even discussing it first.  Morrigan hates Circle mages, though she appears to like Dorian who is technically a Circle mage.  She is so full of energy now that she feels like hitting something.  She sees her neglected and forgotten axe hanging on the wall.  She smiles.  She throws off the covers and rushes to her wardrobe.  Hitting a training dummy or sparring doesn’t require full armor, and if she is going to be doing mage training later, she’ll need something light.  She changes into tan leather pants, a brown long sleeved shirt, a sturdy dark brown leather vest, dark brown leather gloves with matching boots, and a blue scarf to break up the monotone color scene.  Her ties her ever growing hair into a ponytail.  She looks back at her axe.  This outfit doesn’t have a spot to hang it from her back.  She shrugs and decides to just get a practice weapon from the sparring ring.  She closes the wardrobe and starts to walk away.  She spots her armor and then feels her waist.  She goes back to the wardrobe and grabs a brown leather belt.  She puts it on.  She goes to her desk and loads a pocket with healing potions.  She sighs knowing what she needs to put in one of the other pouches.

She heads down the stairs to the throne room.  In the days since her battle with Corypheus, the hall is much quieter.  There are still people milling around, but the atmosphere is definitely more relaxed.  She expects to find Cullen stalking about, but she doesn’t see him.  She cuts through the garden and climbs the stairs to the mage tower.  The mages inside all look at her a little differently now that she is one of them.  She can’t exactly pinpoint what that difference is but it is there.  Since she ordered Cullen to stay away, she’s been secretly keeping track of the tower’s Lyrium supply.  Lysette set up a very strict set of rules when taking Lyrium from the cabinet.  Shea opens it and grabs the paper inside.  She has no idea how many she will need.  She skims the list.  Most of the mages only check out one or two at a time.  That seems like the thing for her to do.  Her grabs the quill off the nearby table and dips it in the inkwell.  She writes:

_Inquisitor Shea Trevelyan.  Two vials removed._

She returns the quill to the table and the paper to the shelf.  She grabs two vials of Lyrium and puts them in a pouch on her belt.  She makes a mental note to return them before turning in for the night.  That way Cullen won’t have to hear them singing to him while he’s trying to sleep.  She closes the cabinet and leaves the tower.  She walks along the battlements until she reaches the stairs by the tavern that go down to the sparring area.  Cassandra is smacking the shit out a dummy.

“Good morning.”

She stops and faces Shea wiping sweat from her forehead.  “Inquisitor.  It seems like forever since I’ve seen you.”

“I was thinking the same thing.  Weren’t you supposed to be on your way to the Grand Cathedral?”

She lets out a sound of disgust.  “Yes.  I’m stalling.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

Shea laughs, “No, I suppose I don’t.”

Cassandra smiles, “I never got to say, but congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“How far along are you now?”

“It’ll be 2 months on the 25th.”

“And it’s going well considering…”

“The mage thing?  Yes.  Though... I had to start taking Lyrium today.”

Cassandra places her hand on her arm.  “I’m sorry.  I know how hard that must be for you both.”

“I haven’t seen him yet.  But I had used up all my… mana?”  Cassandra nods, “And I don’t know how to replenish it yet.”

“I’ve seen what that can do.  You made the right call.”

“I hope he sees it that way.”

“I’m sure he will.  I did see him earlier.  Looked like he was getting ready to get his men working again.”

“His armor is still upstairs.”

Cassandra smirks, “He doesn’t use to wear his armor all the time.  He started doing that during the conclave.  You should go watch, or since you seem to be sparring ready, maybe you should join in.”

“Can templars feel when a mage has taken Lyrium?”

“Only if it’s fresh.  Within a few minutes, it just blends in with the feel of their magic.”

Shea smiles and lets out a sigh of relief, “That is wonderful news.  I was worried that this was going to torture him.”

“It will but not physically.  Though if you are carrying any it might.”

Shea nods.  “Fair point.  When do you leave?”

“Leliana wants to leave at noon.  She’s stalling a little too.  Scout Harding will be filling in for her in meetings while she’s gone and keeping her updated on everything that’s going on.  We’re both working on plans regarding how to continue working for you if one of us is elected.”

Shea pulls Cassandra into a hug.  The Seeker gladly returns the gesture.  “In case I don’t see you before you leave, be safe and try to have a pleasant trip.  Feel free to reach out if you need us or me for any reason.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor.”

“Just call me, Shea.  I feel like you’ve earned that.”

Cassandra hugs her a little tighter.  “Is it naïve or selfish to hope that I don’t get elected so that I might one day call you Sister?”

Shea hugs her tighter as well, “To be completely honest, I hope for that as well.”

They separate.  “I should probably get ready to leave.  I know how Leliana hates waiting.”

“Let me know when you get there?”

“Of course.”

Shea turns and heads for the gates.  She waves to a few people as she goes.  She walks quickly down the ramp in the keep and exits into the valley.  Her breath catches in her throat at the sight in front of her.  Several men are gathered around a makeshift sparring ring, though why they built one when there is a perfectly good one inside Skyhold she has no idea..  None of them are in armor.  Some are in simple long sleeved shirts, others in tank tops, and handful are not wearing shirts at all.  One of those men includes her very sweaty fiancé.

Dorian is leaning against the stone wall of the keep.  She joins him, her eyes glued to the glistening, rippling muscle of her Commander as he spars with someone she can’t see.  He smirks over at her.  “What a glorious spectacle we are greeted with this morning.”

“I’ll say.”  They watch him fight his opponent.  “Maker’s breath.  He’s gorgeous.”

“You’ve done well.”

“The things I would do to that man right now.”

“I know exactly what you mean.  Too bad he’s taken.”

She laughs.  Cullen hears the sound as he effortlessly pushes his attacker back with his shield.  He holds up his hand and motions for someone to take his place.  He hands his practice weapons to the man who approaches and vaults over the railing.  He jogs over to her and stops a few feet short.  His heightened senses pick up the song right away.  Pushing it aside, he walks up to her.  He plants a kisses on her lips.  “You look better.”

“I feel better.”

“Good.”  Both she and Dorian scan his sweaty exposed skin as he stands in front of them with his hands resting on his hips.  “What?”

They both smirk and respond at the same time, “Nothing.”

He shakes his head.  “What brings you down here, besides coming to ogle your fiancé?”

“What’s it look like?”

His eyes take in her clothing.  “Leather armor.  Were you looking to spar?”

“Possibly.  Don’t want to get rusty.”

“Then enter the ring, Lady Inquisitor.  Let’s see if you’ve improved any since our last match.”

She shoves off the wall and drags her gloved hand across his abs as she passes him.  He smirks at Dorian before turning to follow her.  He smacks her ass as he jogs by.  She laughs and rubs the spot.  He vaults over the railed and she follows right after him.  He looks around the ring, “Anyone have a two-headed practice weapon for our guest?”

Someone slides the sword into the ring.  She picks it up.  “It’s not my preferred method, but it’ll do.”

Cullen straps on a shield and grabs a sword.  She stands in the center of the ring and he circles her, inches away.  “A few ground rules, my lady.  First off, never thought I’d say this, but no magic.”  He whispers, “If you can help it.”  His voice returns to normal, “Second, do try not to telegraph your moves.  We wouldn’t want to make this an easy fight.”

“Anything thing else, _ser_?”  A shiver runs up his spine.  His cock twitches at the word.  He licks his lips and stops in front of her.  His hot breath on her face and the smell of his musk makes it hard for her to focus on his words.

“First one downed or to yield loses.  Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Then take your place.”

She presses up on her toes and kisses his nose before she turns her back on him.  He backs up a few paces, readying himself for the charge he knows she’ll start with.  She cracks her neck and stretches her back.  She closes her eyes and focuses on her magic.  She deactivates the internal heater.  She goes into what Morrigan described as a neutral state.  The magic will always be there, but in this state it won’t lash out of its own accord.

When she opens her eyes, she can see him studying her.  In the year since they last sparred, she has experienced things in battle that he can only dream.  Bull’s Ben-Hassrath training has helped her disguise any tells in her face.  She could appear to be looking one way, but really be focused on another.  She was cocky before, thinking she could best a seasoned warrior.  But now she is also seasoned and experienced in ways that he could only imagine from her reports.  She just defeated an ancient darkspawn Tevinter Magister, wearing him down with her fighting skills before magic even entered the picture.  Sure she had help, but the final blow was ultimately hers.  Cullen is small potatoes in comparison.

She makes eye contact with him and waits.  She just stands there, sword at her side.  His foot shifts and she starts circling the ring the same time he does.  She knows his body, how his muscles move.  He may not be telegraphing, but she has studied his sculpted frame for so long that she can almost pick up on the subtle tensing of them beneath his skin.  The valley is dead quiet as they slowly circle the ring.  When he shifts directions, she changes at the exact same time.  She is going to have to thank Iron Bull again for teaching her to read a person’s minute movements.

Cullen can already tell she’s improved greatly.  She is reading him like a book.  He’s going to have to surprise her.  Adapt to her more experienced and methodic style.  She is sizing him up.  He has seen Bull do it a hundred times.  Her stance is casual, but her eyes are busy.  Watching, waiting.  Like a snake coiling up to strike.  She is waiting for him to make the first move.  And she’s just going to have to keep waiting.  Because he knows that’s what she wants.  Her foot shifts toward him, but he doesn’t react.  This is one of Blackwall’s tactics.  Testing the waters.

She stifles a groan.  She needs to stop using the styles taught to her.  He has no doubt seen them all.  Unless she thinks more like a rogue.  Light weight, silent, long smooth motions followed by quickly action.  She mentally shakes her head.  _Stick with what you know_.  She decides to bait him.  Purposefully telegraph a move, the wrong move, then counter his counter.  She can tell that he will not attack first.  She grips her sword with both hands.

He mentally rolls his eyes.  She’s telegraphing her charge.  Studying her face it seems like she’s serious.  Letting go of the things she’s learned from others and doing her own thing.  He charges to meet her in the middle as she rushes forward, he moves his shield to block her, but she isn’t there.  He catches an elbow in the back and stumbles forward.  He moves and blocks her swing with his sword behind his back.  She skips backwards with a smile on her face.  He spins and faces her again.  He can’t help but smile back at her.  It was a perfectly executed fake.  But she won’t be able to do it again.

Yet Shea knows she can do it again.  Especially if it is a different, not telegraphed fake.  She can tell by the look on his face that he thinks she can’t do it.  She doesn’t bother circling.  She charges him in earnest.  When he spins to doge her, she drops down shooting her leg out.  He trips over it but doesn’t fall.  His back slams into the railing as he catches himself.

He is a little stunned.  It was another well-crafted fake.  A real charge disguising a move that would leave the enemy prone.  He pushes off the rail while she’s still crouched on the ground.  He jumps over her sword and leg as she swings then.  He catches her in the chest with his knee, but instead of falling back as he expected she uses the momentum to roll over her head and back onto her feet.  Her hair is caked with snow from rolling on the ground. She shakes her head and it flies into the air.  He uses his shield too block the tiny shards of ice.  “No magic, Inquisitor.”

“Was that magic?”  She thinks about it as they circle close to each other.  Nope not magic.  She didn’t use any.  He takes advantage of his distraction and swings his sword.  She deflects each swing with her sword.  “It’s going to be that way, Commander?”

He smirks at her deflecting her swing off his shield.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Trying to use my insecurities against me.  Two can play that game, _ser_.”  She thanks the Maker she forgot to put on a breast band.  With her sword in one hand, she reaches for her belt.  She deflects more strikes form him as she unbuckles it.  Once undone, she tosses it behind her.  Dorian, who has moved closer to get a better look, catches it and drapes it over his arm.

“Using a two-handed weapon with one hand isn’t very smart.”

“Watch me.”

She swings with the sword, banging it hard and repeatedly against his shield.  Her pulls off the scarf and tosses it to Dorian.  Her left hand works the buttons and buckles on her vest.  She continues her aggressive one handed assault, backing him into the railing.  When the vest is free, she turns her back on him and runs to the other side of the ring.  He straightens from his bent back position.  She smiles brightly.  She stabs the wooden sword into the snow and places her vest in Dorian’s waiting hand.  He inhales sharply at the view in front of him.  The cold has made her nipples rock hard and they press against her tight shirt.  She pulls her sword aggressively out of the snow.  She charges him while he’s distracted and he raises his sword above his head to stop her downward swing.  He knocks her back with his shield.

They continue to exchange blows, neither one able to best the other.  Though she manages to get a few hits in with an elbow and kick.  He determines that the only way to best her is going to be pure brute strength.  No matter how hard she works at it, she will always be smaller than he is.  First, he needs to allow her to disarm him.  But it needs to look like she did it herself and not that he let her.  As she swings toward his shield side, he swings his sword low, trying to catch her knee.  She has no option but to kick the weapon away.  She catches his hand by mistake and the sword goes flying out of the ring.  He shakes his hand.  She knows she may have actually hurt him.  Her magic stirs, _Oh no you don’t._ She can’t afford to close her eyes.  She looks quickly at Dorian.  _Defusing a spell is as simple as transforming it into magic without purpose.  And absorbing it back into yourself._    She takes a deep breath and the bubbling spell fades away.  She wants to end this so she can heal him.  She charges him, not fully present as she makes sure the magic stays down.  He blocks with his shield and shifts his weight.  Her momentum sends her rolling across his back.  He yanks the sword from her hand as she goes.  She lands face first in the snow.

“Shit.”  She pushes herself up off the ground.  He waves her sword at her and tosses it out of the ring.  She walked right into his trap.  _Play fair, Shea.  No magic._   She sighs, time to change things up.  There is no way she would best him with strength, but speed is her ally.  She just needs to get that shield out of his hands first.  But how?  She quickly observes his stance.  Would he expect her to charge without a weapon?  Only one way to find out.

She charges him.  He raises his shield to block and she watches his feet steady him for impact.  She drops and slides between his open legs.  He can’t turn fast enough.  She is up off the ground in a second and jumps onto his back.  She wraps one arm around his neck and yanks the shield from his arm with the other.  She tosses it to the side as his hands grab her arm.  He flips her over his head, which she is expecting, and she lands on her feet.  She dodges his grapple, spinning to the side.  If he pins her down, it’s over.

She grabs his wrist as she spins away and folds his arm behind his back.  She grabs his elbow with her other hand locking his arm in place.  He hisses in pain as she twists his arm.  He reaches back and grabs his fist.  He pushes down on his locked arm breaking her hold.  He slams the heel of his boot on her toes and when she bends forward slightly, he swings his arm and wraps it around her neck.  He holds her firmly in this head lock.  He doesn’t catch her arm in time and she wraps it around his waist while her other arm wraps around his leg.  She pulls his leg out from under him and pushes him down.  She goes down with him.  His wind is knocked out his lungs as he hits the ground.  She sits on his chest with his arms pinned under her legs.  He presses his feet against the ground and bucks his hips sending her over his head.  She tries to scramble to her feet but he grabs her ankle and pulls her back.  He drops onto of her and pins her arms above her head.  She is face first in the snow.

She struggles under his weight and hears him chuckle.  “Do you yield?”

She chuckles right back, “Never.”  She presses her ass against his crotch and grinds.  He inhales sharply.  He fell right into her trap.  She shifts and grinds again him as she digs her knees into the ground and pushes her hips forcefully back into him.  He frees her hands and backs away hunched over.  She springs up into a crouch.  She looks over her shoulder.  His face his red and his hands cover his crotch.  She sweeps her leg back and knocks him on his back.  She springs up and runs over to him.  She gently presses her boot against his throat.  He sighs.  If this were a real battle, she could easily kill him in this position before he could even knock her off.

She smiles down at him.  “Do you yield, Commander?”

He taps her leg.  She removes her boot from his neck and offers him her hand.  He takes it and she helps him off the ground.  He smiles, “You win this time.”

She smiles, “How’s your hand?”

He flexes it and hisses.  “Likely broken.”

“Any other injuries?”

“Maybe a few.”  She takes his hand and sandwiches it between hers.  He feels her magic surround his hands.  She feels the he has a few broken bones in his hand and some in his wrist.  Her magic flows into his hand, healing his broken bones.  He closes his eyes.  He doesn’t know how to describe it, but her magic feels both familiar and foreign at the same time.  Unlike her skin, the magic is cool.  Easing away the inflammation, allowing the muscles to relax as his bones realign.  Once his hand is healed, her spell fades away.  She removes her hands from his.  He opens his eyes and flexes his hand, opening and closing his fist.  “Nice work.”

“If you need me to, I can heal the rest tonight.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.  A few bumps and bruises mostly.”

She wipes sweat from her forehead.  She turns from him to get her things from Dorian.  She puts the vest, scarf, and belt back on.  She looks up at the sky and sees that the sun is almost completely overhead.  “Hungry?”

“Pardon?”

She chuckles, “I asked if were hungry.”

He smiles, “No.”

Her eyes narrow at him, “I know you haven’t eaten today.”

“I’m fine really.”

“Well, I’m going to eat before my other training session.  You’re welcome to join me.”

He pulls her close to him.  Even in the middle of winter, he is sweating up a storm.  She looks around, suddenly very aware that the crowd gathered around them.  “When you’re ready, I want to spar with you in private.”

“I’m ready right now.”

He laughs, “I meant with your magic.”

“Oh.  Right.  I’ll let you know when my instructors clear me.”

He leans down and kisses her lips.  “I’ll see you tonight.  I’ve got more training to do.  My men have become soft from their break.”

She smiles and kisses him again.  “Have fun.”

“Always.”

She turns back towards Skyhold and she climbs over the railing.  Her muscles are already sore from her fight with him.  A long hot bath will be required to relax.  Though she could use her magic to do it, but that would rob her of an experience she enjoys.  She looks over her shoulder and sees that Cullen has let others take over sparring while he takes a break.  He watches her walk away.  He runs his fingers through his hair and smiles at some thought he has.  She smiles to herself and enters the keep taking one last look at the shirtless man that she hopes will always take her breath away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is all this learning to be a mage stuff too much? I'm trying not to rush things, but I really want to get to Baby Rutherford!! Thoughts?
> 
> UPDATED July 26, 2018


	3. When She Says Baby

It’s been over a month since the defeat of Corypheus.  Leliana has been made Divine.  They give her the name Divine Victoria and her first order of business is to declare an end to the Circle of Magi.  The mages will be left to govern themselves.  She then opens the Chantry to other races and declares her official support of the Inquisition.  Her reign is full of controversy from the start and rumors are already circulating that she won’t be Divine long.  The Inquisition instantly offers their support to the new Divine, using its ties to Empress Celene to assist her from affair.  Leliana continues to be the Inquisition’s spymaster from the shadows.

The former rebel mages, led by Fiona, have left Skyhold to reform the College of Enchanters as a new order.  At Cullen’s suggestion, the mages move into Kinloch Hold as the College works on getting itself off the ground with the Inquisition ready to assist them if they need it.  The plan to use the tower as the main hub and school, but they want to build more docks and maybe even a small village for the mages to have families and live their lives outside of the stonewalls.

The Red Templars have been mostly wiped out, which also means the Templar Order has all but been wiped out.  Any templar who hasn’t been corrupted have started returning to the Spire in Val Royeaux, hoping that Divine Victoria will have a use for the ones who remained loyal to the Chantry.

Rifts continue to plaque Thedas.  Shea sits on her couch in one of Cullen’s shirts with reports scattered around her.  Every country in Thedas is asking her to come and close the rifts.  The only country who admittedly would like them closed but is in no hurry to get it done is Tevinter.  Dorian’s theory is that the Magisters are afraid of her and the force she commands.  So, that report remains on the bottom of the pile.  She has been reading for hours.  She leans over to the map on the small table.  She is using Cullen’s markers to place the location of the rifts on her map.  Varric has written her from Kirkwall, having arrived to a completely shut down harbor due to several large rifts, has written her for aid.  He complains that the Provisional Viscount didn’t even think to write the Inquisition before the damage built up.  She would love to make that a priority since this rift is so close to a heavily populated city. 

She sets the report next to her map and rubs her temples.  She really needs to let off some steam.  She also wants a drink, but everything she tries made her nauseous.  She has yet to have morning sickness, and at 8 weeks pregnant she is told to expect it any day.  Thus why she’s working on this rift business in her room and not the war room.  She is also restless.  This is the longest time she has ever just sat in one place since the conclave. 

She rubs her temples trying to make her building headache go away.  Then she remembers she can do more than that.  She pulls the band from her hair.  She summons soothing cool healing magic into her fingertips and runs them along her scalp.  She gently presses on the areas of her head where pain is throbbing and eases it away.  She lets go of the magic and runs her fingers through your hair then returns it to the long ponytail.  A fluttering sound hits her ear.  She turns and sees Sky eating a cricket on her desk.  The metal tube on her leg as a piece of paper in it.  She gets off the couch and scratches the top of the bird’s head.  She pulls the paper from the metal sleeve and returns to the couch.

_Shea,_

_I’ve heard some rumors about you from my dear husband.  He says there are two things that are giving people the most pause.  One that you are having your Commander’s bastard child.  The other is that you are a mage._

_I find one more disturbing than the other.  Congrats on the baby!  I can’t help but take some credit since I encouraged it to happen.  People are so old fashioned.  You’re engaged to him.  Just because this baby was conceived before the wedding day shouldn’t mean anything._

_So… are you a mage now?  If so, how the hell did that happen?  People don’t just randomly become mages.  I’m sure you have your best people looking into it._

_Oh!  And thanks for saving the world!  Again!  I’ll be swinging by Denerim soon. In secret.  My husband craves physical contact or he’s going to find a mistress or go insane.  And let’s be honest, it’ll probably be the second one.  Even if I don’t see you.  I’ll be making you a whole crate of paper… although I could also teach it you how to make it now.  Are you a Dreamer?  Well, even if you aren’t you can make that potion yourself now._

_I’ve gone on long enough.  I was mainly writing to check up on the two of you.  Hope all is well._

_~Danielle_

 

Danielle’s talk of the baby makes Shea touch her stomach.  The bump is small, but it is definitely there.  Cullen hasn’t noticed it yet since he’s been working himself to death and just passes out when he comes to their room.  She sets Danielle’s note on her stack of things to do tomorrow.  She looks out the window and watches the snow fall over Skyhold.  The flurries brush against the windows and drift into the room.  She stands and closes the balcony doors.  She looks up at the clouds as she closes the second set.  It looks like a storm is coming.  She throws another log on the fire just to make sure he stays warm as she will have no problem with that.

She shakes her head.  A storm means another delayed trip.  She decides to get dressed and actually leave her room for once.  It’s been days since she has ventured beyond her four walls.  Her mind turns to things she needs to do before she can get on with the business of closing rifts.

Fiona had given her the all clear before she left after Shea passed all of her tests, which included a harrowing.  Which she breezed through.  The demon who appeared ran away screaming when it saw her.  Her reputation had obviously made an impact in the Fade.  Cullen couldn’t bring himself to attend.  So Lysette was there instead and she didn’t feel any better about potentially having to kill her than Cullen did.  Fortunately, it was over so fast that there was zero need for worry.

Morrigan had also given her the all clear before she and Kieran left Skyhold.  She wonders if they have made it to Denerim yet.  Morrigan had finally decided it was time for Kieran to meet his father, whether Alistair wanted to or not.  The witch was encouraged by her talks with Danielle in the Fade, having assured the Queen that she had no intention of putting Kieran in the line of succession.  She wanted her meeting with Alistair to be private.

Dorian on the other hand was not completely satisfied on her progress.  She images Cullen has something to do with that since every task he set before her she did with ease.  She looks over to her armor.  It reminds her that she needs to change it a bit to allow for more movement.  It needs to be just as protective, but her magic didn’t work as well with it on.  Which might be another reason Dorian wouldn’t clear her.  A new addiction to the corner is another weapon rack holding a very basic staff.  She needs to talk to Dagna about crafting something that would work for both of her classes.  Warrior and Mage.  A great axe staff of some kind.

She changes into her uniform.  It is weird to be putting it back on after all this time, yet comforting.  She makes a plan.  _Go talk to Dagna and Harritt about new armor and a new weapon.  Next to go insist that Dorian give me the final test so that I can be cleared to travel.  Find Moira and finally ask her how her study of how I became a mage is going.  Make Cullen have dinner with me._   She heads down the stairs, crosses the throne room, and descends into the undercroft.

Harritt isn’t down there for the first time ever, but Dagna is.  Sera is there too, itting on a table watching her work.  “Hello ladies!”

They both look over at her.  Dagna sets down whatever she is working on and goes to her, “Inquisitor!  What brings you down here?”

“I have an… interesting challenge for you.”

The dwarf rubs her hands together, “Oooo!  I love a challenge!  Lay it on me!”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard I’m a mage now.”

“Yeah.  It’s weird huh?”

Sera giggles, “It’s more than _weird_!  It’s mental!”

Shea chuckles, “It’s a mystery for sure.  I’ve got two challenges for you.   One more difficult than the other.”

“Easy one first then.”

“I need my armor modified.  It needs to be just as protective but lighter.”

“Like the armor we make for the mages?”

“Right.”

“So you need us to make an armor that works for both heavy armor and light armor.  Why not just use medium armor?”

Shea smirks, “Because medium armor won’t hold up when I use my body like a battering ram.”

“Hmm.  Going to have to think about that one.  And the second?”

“I need to new weapon.”

“We have loads of schematic for making staffs.”

Shea scratches her head, “That’s the problem.  It would waste valuable time in battle to have to switch between my axe and a staff.  I need to find a way to combine the two.”

Dagna shrugs, “Or you’ll have to just pick one.”

“I’d rather not.  I would be much more effective if I could use both.”

Sera shakes her head, “That’s nuts!  You can’t be all bad ass _and_ magey!”

“I believe I’m the first to want to.  It’s not impossible, just impractical.”

“I’ll give it a shot, Inquisitor.  Might need some trial and error though.”

“Then I’ll let you get to it.”

Shea heads back up to the throne room and goes for Dorian’s reading alcove.  Moira sees her before she makes the stairs.  “Shea!  I think I’ve figured it out.”

“I was going to come by later to ask.   Glad I don’t have to.”

Moira pulls out the chair at the desk and Shea sits.  The broken orb is laying top of it.  “Ok.  So this is just a theory and a lot of it needs to be confirmed, but this seems like the most likely reason.”  She takes a breath and pushes a piece of paper towards her.  It is written in a mixture of Tevene and Elven.  She tries to read it and finds she can’t make out most of the elven and none of the Tevene.

“What’s it say?”

“I did the best I could to track down information on Foci.  Dorian had this sent from Minrathous.  No one can read the elven.  It’s ancient.  Like before the Imperium ancient.  Fortunately, some Magister way back when translated the elven and Tevene hasn’t changed in centuries.  According to Dorian, this describes Foci as more than a magical enhancement.  Sure, it channels magic from the user into the orb and then amplifies it.  But it’s more than that.  More like the Well of Sorrows.  With every use the orb retains a little bit of power.  If left untouched for long periods of time, the magic inside it builds.  Here’s the weird part.  If an elf wanted to say stash some of their magic for later, they could store it inside.  Sometimes elven spies who also happened to be mages would put all of their magic inside.  So, my first working theory was that when you started experimenting with what the orb could do, you inadvertently absorbed the orbs magic.   I quickly ruled that out though, because if that was the case, then Corypheus would have absorbed it instead of you.”

Shea exhales slowly, “That’s a lot of information for such a short page.”

“It’s front and back.  But that’s not the most interesting part.”  Moira pulls the paper away and slides another one towards her.  “This is a drawing of a mural found in an elven ruin in Tevinter.  Dorian has more friends up there than he releases.”  Shea studies the drawing.  It is a rendering of an ancient elven fresco, like the walls of the rotunda.  An elf holds a glowing orb in his hand.  He is channeling magic into it.  His face is clear of vallaslin.  Kneeling in front of this elf is another elf.  This elf does have vallaslin, but whomever drew this wasn’t very good at details.  “Ok.  So, I’ve never heard or seen this story before.  By all accounts, this looks to be an Evanuris.    Due to the lack of detail in the rendering, I can’t tell which one.  But that doesn’t really matter. This shows one of our Gods pouring his or her own magic in the orb.  This elf here is looks to be a hunter.  See the bow and quiver.  Now, why might a hunter be kneeling before a god when magic is involved you may ask?”  She flips the paper over.  “The second half of this mural shows the god giving the hunter the orb.  The magic flows into him and the orb cracks.  And the hunter is now a mage.”

“That’s what happened during the battle.  I think.  I could feel the magic working and it wasn’t until after did I realize it was coming from me and not the orb.”

“That brings me to the final piece of the puzzle so far as I’m concerned.  Solas asked if you were you were elf-blooded.   What I think that means is that this process, creating a new mage from a Foci, can only be done by elves.  Tevinter mages use Foci but never like this.  It’s elven magic and we elves are very protective of our things, as you saw at Mythal.  So I have a hard time believing that humans can even remotely use it to its fullest potential.  Which brings me back to his question.”

Shea nods, “If the Foci was able to make me a mage, then I must be elf-blooded otherwise it wouldn’t have worked.”

Moira smiles, “Exactly.  So, I did some digging, but didn’t get far.  Your father’s secrets died with him.  And your mother has moved back to Orlais.   The only thing I could dig up was this.”  She pushes forward the family ledger from Shea’s room.  It is flipped open to the very last section, which is a sprawling family tree.  Pages have clearly been added over the years to accommodate the growing family.  “Alright, so here’s your father.  And the line connecting him to your mother by marriage.  Then here are you and your brothers.  If you’ll notice they say the Emeric was born well after Brandon, which we now know to be false.  But that’s not the really interesting part.”

Shea leans into the page.  To examine her immediate family.  She gasps, “Why didn’t I see that before?!  There’s descriptions of everyone.  Eye color.  Hair color.  Gender.  And even height.  My father had blue eyes like every other Trevelyan it seems.  The signature trait.  His hair was… auburn?  That can’t be right.  If memory serves, his hair was dark.  Mother has auburn hair like both Brandon and I.”  Shea reads the description under her mother’s name.  “This says she has green eyes, which I remember.  And… blonde hair… what the hell is this?  I remember clear as day that her hair is auburn, just like mine.” Shea reads more.  “Brandon.  Blue eyes, auburn hair.  Emeric.  Blue eyes, black hair.  Me.  Blue eyes, auburn hair.  If this is right, then we got our father’s traits and not our mother’s.”

Moira nods, “And that’s as far as I got.  Based on the information that we know, your father wasn’t against fathering children with other women and passing them off as legitimate.”

Shea puts her elbows on the desk and rest her head in her hands.  “This has so many, many implications.  If… my mother isn’t my mother and someone else is, then Brandon is the sole heir to House Trevelyan.  I would be removed just like Emeric.  I think… I think… Maker I so don’t want to do this, but… I think I need to go visit my mother.  She won’t be able to lie in my face.”

“And then we’d know how plausible this theory is.”

“Why?  Why does this shit always happen?  Why is my family so fucked up?”  Shea covers her mouth.

Moira rubs her back.  “What is it?”

Shea quickly stands and rushes out the door to the bridge to Cullen’s office.  She leans over the side and vomits onto the ground far below.  She hopes to the Maker she doesn’t hit anyone.  Moira rubs her back.  She vomits violently off the bridge again.  The door to Cullen’s office opens.  He is wearing casual clothes as is his custom now.  He rushes over to the women as Shea vomits again.  “Is she alright?”

Moira shrugs, “No idea.”

They stand there with her as she coughs and vomits over the side of the bridge.  She wipes her mouth with back of her hand and straightens.  She feels completely fine now.  “Are you alright, love?”

“Emotionally?  No.  Physically?  Yes.  I’m not sure what that was.”

“You just threw up everything you’ve ever eaten.  I don’t buy that you are fine.”

“But I am.  Completely fine.”  He lowers his head at her.  “Ok.  Not completely fine.  Maybe a little nauseous, it’s nothing to worry about.”  She shakes her head and chuckles.  “I’m feeling much better about being right about the birthdate.”

“Why?”

“Even my morning sickness is fashionably late.”

“You can get morning sickness in the afternoon?”

She shrugs, “Guess so.”

“Wait.  You said you weren’t emotionally alright.  What does that mean exactly?”  She takes his hand and leads him to the desk.  “Read that.”  He sits in the chair and examines her family tree.  She nibbles on her finger nail as he reads.  He looks up at her.  “I seem to recall you telling me your mother’s hair is auburn.”

“It is.”

“So, is this wrong?”

Moira shakes her head, “I highly doubt it.  Everything in this book has checked out.”

“What do you need me to do, love?”

She sighs, “I need to go to Ghislain and confront her.  She can’t lie to me to my face.”

“When do we leave?”

She laughs, “There’s a storm coming, Commander.  Or didn’t you notice?”

“I mean after that.”

“That all depends on Master Pavus.  I can wait for my new armor and potential new weapon to be figured out.  Also, since you’re here.  You’re having dinner with me tonight.”

He stands from the chair.  Moira gathers up her evidence and leaves the room.  “I have a thousand…”

She presses her finger against his lips.  “That wasn’t a question.”

He grabs her hand and pulls it away.  “Love, I need to make arrangements, plan the best way to...”

“I haven’t really seen you longer than five minutes for the past few days.  I don’t know what that’s about, and we’re going to talk about it, but as your fiancé and mother of your child, I’m beginning to feel neglected.”

He slides his arms around her waist and pulls her close.  “My apologies, love.”  He leans in the kiss her and she puts her hand on his mouth.

“Just threw up, remember?”

He chuckles behind her hand.  “Unlike someone I don’t have a weak stomach.”

The thought makes her stomach lurch.  She rolls her eyes and turns back towards the bridge.  He follows her as she leans over the side to vomit some more.  “Someone’s going to need to clean that up.”

“I’ll handle it.”

She turns and points her finger in his face.  “I mean it.  We are having dinner together tonight.”

“Alright.  I’ll be there.  Any requests?”

“Ugh.  I can’t even think about that right now.  No alcohol for sure.  I know that’ll just set me off again.”

“So I can’t drink now?”

She chuckles, “It’s the smell, sweetheart.”

He shakes his head, “As you wish.”

“You should get back to work so that you can get to a stopping point.  While you do that, I’m going to go brush my teeth and then demand the Tevinter give me my final test.”

He kisses her forehead, “Good luck.” He goes back to his tower and she heads for their quarters.

***

Shea stands alone in the valley below Skyhold.  A blizzard is starting to bear down and there she stands in her uniform twirling a wooden staff.  Her internal furnace is on full blast.  _Where is he?_   She paces the makeshift sparring area that Cullen and his men set up.  It works great for safely displaying her skills without the risks of hurting anyone.  Fiona taught her the basics as she had done so many times in the Circle, as well as healing and defensive spells.  Morrigan shared her knowledge of old magic and ancient elven practices she learned from the Well of Sorrows and how to restore for mana.  Dorian is her offensive instructor, teaching her how to fight with a staff, both with and without magic, how to use a staff to enhance spells, and he worked on teaching her at least one offensive spell from each of the spell sets.

The storm is really starting to get bad and if she waits much longer it is going to get dark.  She is about to give up and go inside when she feels a crackle in the air.  She quickly cast a barrier on herself since she can’t see where the strike will be coming from, the storm is cutting off her visibility.  She gets an idea, but she needs to be careful.  He could be anywhere.  She casts a chained lighting spell and hoped no one but him is out there, otherwise they’d get hit too.  She hears him cuss softly and she spins to face where the voice came from.  It is time to go to work.  She immediately takes to the offensive.  She shoots magic in his direction with a perfectly choreographed pattern of staff twirls.  She needs to pace herself.   She burned through some of her energy just standing there keeping herself warm.  She doesn’t know what his test is exactly, but she imagines it will be more of a sparring match than the other two.

If his attack hadn’t melted the snow around it as it came flying at her, it would have hit her.  She dodges it in the nick of time and sends one right back at him.  She circles the ring as the storm intensifies.  She growls.  _How am I supposed to attack something I can’t even see?_   He chuckles at her frustration, revealing his location.  She reaches out with her ice magic.  She can feel him trying to sneak around her.  She then freezes his legs solid.  The wind howls angrily.  “I’ve done every spell you’re taught me!  Now what?!”

“Cast and name them!”

She groans.  She aims then all right at him, “Winter’s Grasp!”  She freezes him more securely in place.  “Barrier!”  She casts it on herself.  “Chained Lighting!”  She shocks him.  “Flashfire!”  She sends a ball of fire at his legs, unfreezing him.  He runs up to her, his clothes are a little singed.  “What’s the point of this?!  We could be buried alive out here!”

“Not being able to see your opponent makes you more aware of the magic being used around you!”

“This isn’t another fucking lesson is it?!”

He laughs, “No!  I just needed to see your form and that you could cast them rapidly!  You’re cleared!  But keep in mind you will always be learning more!”

“Great!  Now let’s get out of this storm before it kills us!”

They link arms and trudge to the keep.  They quickly walk up the ramp.  This is the worst part.  The bridge to the gate has no rails and if you fall, you are dead.  They stand at the door of the keep looking at what is be their certain death.  Her mark twitches and her magic buzzes.  “Hey!  I have an idea!  I’m basing this on something I’ve seen you do in battle and a little fade magic!”

“Not sure that’s wise!”

“Would you rather die from failing off that bridge?!”

She lets go of his arm and activates the spell she feels inside her.  She speeds across the bridge and ends safely on the other side.  She can’t see him anymore.  She uses it again and ends right back next to him.  He is smiling from ear to ear.

“What?!”

“You just taught yourself Fade Step!  It’s from the winter set!”

“Can I bring you with me?!”

“Only if you can carry me!”

She turns her back to him.  “Hop on!  I’ve got strong legs!”

“Turn your internal heat off!  Doing this with a passenger is really going to drain you!”

She does and a huge chill runs through her.  She is almost instantly freezing.  “Ready?!”

“Ready!”

She activates Fade Step and can feel that he was right.  They reach the gate and she braces herself on the wall.  She pulls a bottle of Lyrium from her pouch and downs it.  She tosses the bottle into the storm.  They start walking back in and they find that the gates are closed.  “Open the gates!”

“They can’t hear you!  I’m standing right next to you and I can barely hear you!”

“Grab hold of me so I don’t blow away!”  He wraps his hand around her wrist and she grabs his.  He then wraps his arm around the metal gate.  She steps on to the bridge as far back as their holds will let them.  She points her staff at the gate.  She closes her eyes and aims up, then moves it to the right.  She hopes her memory is as good as she thinks it is, because if not she and Dorian are fucked.  The staff glows with an ocean blue colored light.  She shoots a ball of light from her staff and it disappears into the storm.  Even with the deafening wind she can hear it hit the wall.  She gives it a couple seconds before firing again, this time the ball is honey colored.  It hits the wall.  _Please be in your office.  Please be in your office._   She fires again, this time the ball is the color of her mark.  It hits the wall.

Dorian pulls her back in and they huddle together against the gate.  Since she took lyrium, she reactivates her internal heater.  “Did you bring any?!”

“Never leave home without it!”

“Maker, I hope he’s in his office.”

***

Cullen feels like he is trapped in his office.  The storm is blowing so hard that every time he opens a door, papers fly around and the door slams back in his face.  Shea is going to be pissed if he misses dinner, weather be damned.  He finally gets his reports reorganized and finds anything heavy he can to weigh them down.  Some he shoves in desk drawers.  Others get books.  He steps around his desk and heads for the door closer to the stables.  He doesn’t trust this wind not to blow him off the bridge to the rotunda and he needs to go to the kitchen anyway.  His hand touches the knob when a blinded ocean blue light crashes in the outside wall next to his window.  “Maker!  What was that?”

He turns to the window and waits.  Another burst of color, this time honey.  “Ocean blue.  Honey.  Andraste’s ass, that’s Shea!”  He rushes for the door.  He pulls hard against it.  It doesn’t move.  He tries the one by the rotunda and it is equally as stuck.  Only one door left and it scares him more than the rotunda.  It goes to the battlements and if that wind is strong enough to hold his doors closed, it could easily blow him off such a high place.  But she needs him. She is clearly outside the gates.  A burst of bright green bursts outside his window.  He pulls hard on the final door.  It swings open quickly.  He rushes out and forces the door closed.  This is the worst storm he has seen in a long time.  It must be all that Breach business messing with the sky.

He feels the wind pull at him. He drops onto his stomach letting the battement walls block most of the wind.  He crawls like that until he reaches the stairs before the tavern.  He scurries down them.  He passes people just standing around outside.  “Get inside!  You are crazy?!”  He storms toward the gates.  He storms into the gate house that is fully protected from the storm.  He shoves the guard on duty away from the controls.  “Why are these closed?!”

“The horses, ser!  They are spooked because of the storm.  I thought they might run off.”

He growls at him, “We can get new horses!  We can’t get a new Inquisitor!”  He pulls the lever and the gate stutters but slowly open.  “Never close these gates without direct orders again!  Do you understand?!”

“Yes, ser!”

“Now, go!  I’ll handle this!”  The guard runs away.  When the first gate is open enough for him to get under, he stops it.  He pulls the lever for the outer gate.  He hears the faint sound of cheering.  He goes through a door that leads to a landing between the gates.  Dorian and Shea come stumbling in.  Once they have cleared the outer gate, he goes back in the gatehouse to close it.  He stick his head back out and when they have fully entered Skyhold, he closes the other gate.  He leaves the gatehouse closing the door firmly behind him.  He rushes to them.  She wraps her arms around his waist so happy to see him.  “Come on!  This way!  Through the kitchen!”

Once the three of them are safely inside, he brushes the snow out of her.  “What the hell were you two doing out there?”

“My test.”

“I wanted to teach her to sense the magic of others when she couldn’t see them.  It wasn’t this bad when we went down in the valley.”

Shea nods and brushes snow of Cullen.  “Right.  It escalated quickly.”

“I’m just glad I was in my office.”

Dorian chuckles, “We are too.  I’m going to make sure Bull made it to our room ok.”  Dorian rushes off through the door that leads into the castle.  Cullen presses her cold fingers against her warm skin.

“Is my big strong Fereldan cold?”

He chuckles, “I’m not exactly dressed for winter.”

“Then let’s grab some food and go to our room.  I can get you nice and warm.”  She smiles and he kisses her nose.  He sees a pot over the fire.  He looks in it and smiles.

“How’s stew sound?”

She walks over to it and smells it.  Her stomach growls.  “Seems like it should be ok.  I suppose we’ll see.”

He grabs two bowls and ladles the stew into them.  He grabs two spoons and puts them in his pocket.  “Lead the way.”  She opens the door for him.  She leads him to their secret entrance and closes it behind them.  He sees the mess that is their sitting area when he crests the stairs.  “You’ve been busy I see.”

She chuckles.  “Sorry.  Let me clear this way.”  She starts clearing away the reports and putting them on her desk.  He sets the bowl next to the map and is studying it when she comes to clear it. 

“I’m not sure why we never thought to something like this sooner.  We should get markers made for you.  Then we can mark these on the war table map.”

“You think so?”

He hands her a spoon and a bowl.  She begins eating slowly as he studies her work.  “Absolutely.”  He picks up his bowl and she watches him study her map while he eats.

“I didn’t plan on talking about work, but I suppose this is tied to our personal quests as well.”

“How so?”

She leans forward in her seat and points to Ghislain on the map.  “My mother’s side of the family lives here.  She moved back there after Father was killed.  As you can see, there are rifts in Northern Orlais.  Celene sent Chevaliers to clear civilians away for their own safety and only engage with the demons if they pass a certain point in their perimeter.  I’m not sure where their estate is, but Vivienne would probably know them since Bastien and his family are also from Ghislain.  Knowing where their estate is before we leave will save us time.”

“Do you plan on sending word that we are coming?”

“Only to close the rifts.  If my mother has warning that I’m coming to see her, she might make sure she isn’t there.”

 “Would she really not want to see you?  Even if she didn’t know the purpose of your visit?”  Cullen slurps some of his stew and Shea takes a bite of something solid.  A vegetable of some sort.  She doesn’t get the chance to figure it out.  Shea sets her bowl down.  She groans and pushes off the chair.  She runs her hand across his shoulders as she passes him and goes to the chamber pot.  She closes the door behind her as she pukes.  He sets his bowl down and looks back at the door while he waits.  He wishes there was something he could do to help.  She comes out and goes to brush her teeth.  “Feeling alright?”

She pauses at the door and looks back at him.  “Apparently, I’m only allowed a liquid diet.  I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep much down.”  She ducks into the bathroom to brush her teeth.  Cullen grabs her bowl and scoops out all the solid chucks.  Meat, potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables.  He then pours the rest of his broth into her bowl.  He sets her bowl back in front of her seat.  She comes back and sits down.  She picks up her bowl to sip at the broth.  She looks into it and then smiles at him.  “The broth is your favorite part of stew.”

“Yes, but you need to eat something.  And if you can keep that down, then you can have it.”

She reaches towards him and touches his face.  “You are so sweet.  And thoughtful.  Thank you.”

“So, back to this.  Were you saying your mother wouldn’t want to see you?”

Shea nods.  “My parents and I were never that close.  Yes, she was sad when I left, but she always knew it was coming.  I was much closer to my Uncle Hayden and my brothers.  Well, I was close with Emeric.  Brandon and I fought a lot when I was a child.  We didn’t stop fighting until I started training.  I’m assuming that’s because we had something to channel that energy into.”

“I get that.  Mia and I used to fight all the time.  At least before Branson came along.  The power dynamic among siblings shifts every time a new one is born.  Older vs younger.  Boys vs girls.  As adults, I only really talk to Mia via letters, which I never remember to write.”

“What were you parents like?”

He sets his bowl down and reclines on the couch.  “Maker.  It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of them.  I was already a templar when they died.  Killed by darkspawn while they fled the blight.  With all the chaos in Ferelden during that time, and my poor mental state, I didn’t find out until after I arrived in Kirkwall.  And by then it had been a very long time since I had even spoken to my family.”

“You mentioned that before.  About her writing you years after you got to Kirkwall.”

“Right.  Sorry, that wasn’t your question.  In fact I think you may have known all that.  Both of my parents were kind and patient.  They could be stern, but they mainly wanted us to be happy.  It’s why they let me join the Templar Order.  It was an honorable career.  If they could only see what it did to me.”  He sighs, “Still, I think they would have liked you.  The only regret I have is that they will never meet the person who saved me from darkness.”  She smiles at him.  “You don’t talk much about your parents.”

“I’m sure I’ve talked about them some.”

“I know about your father.  The kind of man he was and the man we are learning he was.  But you have only scratched the surface with your mother.”

Shea takes a few swallows of her broth and then sets the bowl down.  “Well, first big clue about the type of woman my mother is, is to reiterate that she’s Orlesian.  She married my father for wealth, power, and trade.  It wasn’t arranged by her parents.  They wanted her to marry an Orlesian not a Marcher.  But her marriage made her destined for a throne of sorts and she liked the idea.  I don’t think she truly started to love my father until Brandon was born.  They seemed close.  As did she and Emeric.  The heirs to House Trevelyan.  To me, she was distant.  Not cold per se.  More like she wanted to keep from getting attached to me, knowing that when the time came I’d be taken away and she’d never see me again.”

“She was close to _both_ of your brothers?”

She nods, “You have to keep in mind that no one knew Emeric was actually half Tevinter and also a mage.  No one but my father.  She had to know too, but if she did know, she pretended not to.  In fact, I remember on more than one occasion her telling some story about how courteous it was the he arrived just when he was expected to.”  Shea goes quiet for a moment.  “Do you think… seeing as she made up stories about Emeric’s birth… that she made mine up too?”

He nods, “It seems likely.”

“Well, we won’t know until I ask her.  In any case, we have a decision to make.  Whose family do we go see first?”

He leans forward and motions to the marker near South Reach.  “My family lives only the other side of town from the rift.  They are in no danger.  I’m sure they are aware of it, but they aren’t in any direct danger.”

“One other factor to consider is that the royal couple has asked us to meet them in Denerim.”  She gets up and grabs the letter off the desk.  “I haven’t responded, but both Morrigan and Danielle are headed for secret meetings with Alistair.”  She allows him a few moments to read the letter.  “This idea I have may not be the best as it takes us back and forth across Thedas, but I was thinking we should travel across Northern Ferelden, take care of the rifts along the way and meet them in Denerim.  Then travel to Orlais.  This may seem odd, but I would much rather deal with this business with my mother while I can still hide the fact that I’m with child.  Then swing by Skyhold to rest and restock, then go see your family.  I’d have to work out how long that would take.  I may not be able to fight by then.”

He smirks, “No offense to the rulers of Ferelden, but we have more pressing matters than to pay them a casual visit.  If you don’t want your mother to know you’re pregnant, we need to go there first.  Then we can go to Denerim, then South Reach.  If we don’t return to Skyhold in between, then we might make it the whole trip.”

“If I fight as a mage, maybe.  My armor probably won’t fit in a couple months.”

“Why only a couple?”

She finishes her broth and sets the bowl down.  “Finish your food.  You’ll see in a second.”  She goes to the wardrobe and changes out of her uniform.  She keeps her back to him.  She throws on one of his shirts and then sits next to him on the couch.  She waits for him to finish eating and set the bowl down.  He turns sideways on the couch to face her.  She kisses him and lays back on the couch, her feet on either side of him.  He grins at her and starts to crawl up her body.  She stops his progress and takes his hand.  She places it on the belly.  He pushes her shirt up and moves his hand.  Knowing her body like he does, he can see that the definition of her abs has softened and just below her navel is a small mound.  He runs his fingers along the bump.  He leans forward and presses lips to it.

“Hello in there.”

She chuckles, “I don’t think it can hear you.”  He looks up at her with tears in his eyes.  She sits and pulls his face up.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is _wrong_.  I’ve been so busy I’ve missed so much.”

She kisses the tip of his nose.  “My dear sweet Commander.  It’s just a tiny bump that isn’t even visible when I’m wearing clothes.  You haven’t missed anything.”

“I’ll do better, I swear.  I’ll finish my work before dinner and make sure I’m here to spend the evening with you.  I’m not missing anything else.”

She smiles at him and plants a soft kiss on his lips.  “You are perfect, sweetheart.  You do whatever you need to and I’ll… we’ll be here waiting.”  He kisses her and then pushes her back.  He gets up and changes out of clothes.  She smiles at him as he stands at the wardrobe in his smallclothes.  “Putting on pants?”

He catches the tone in her voice.  “Got something else in mind I take it?”

“I did promise to warm you up.”  He comes back to the couch.  She reaches for him.  He kneels on the couch and crawls up her body.  He settles down, laying between her legs.  She chuckles as his attention returns to her tiny bump.  His fingers trace it and he hums to it.  She reaches down and runs her fingers through his hair.  “Guess I’m playing second fiddle to a bump now.”  He kisses her stomach and looks up at her. He smirks and turns his attention back to the bump.

“Is my love feeling neglected?”

“I’d feel better if had actually asked _me_ that.”

He chuckles and kisses the bump.  He crawls up her and hovers above her.  He kisses her lips and she kisses him back.  They lips over together and her palms presses into his back.  “Better?”

“Much.”  She leans up and her mouth crashes against his.  They separate and his hot breath hits her face.  Normally she’d love that, but with his breath comes the smell of food.  She shoves hard against him. He sits back and she launches off the couch.  She runs to the chamber pot, slamming the door behind her.  He sighs.  This is going to be a long, torturous ride.

He gets up off the couch and goes to the bed.  He pulls back the covers.  He gets her a glass of water and sits on the bed.  She comes out and sees him sitting there.  “I’m so sorry.”

He smirks, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”  She looks down at his crotch.

“Is that so?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I could take care of it for you.”

He chuckles and holds out the glass of water.  “No offense love, but you vomiting every half hour, isn’t exactly a turn on.”

She takes the glass and takes a sip.  “Point taken.”  She sits next to him on the bed.  He brushes a few strands of hair from her face. 

“Can I get you anything?”

She thinks for a moment.  “Grapes?”

“You want grapes?”

“I need to eat something or I’m going to starve to death.”  He kisses her forehead.  He goes to the wardrobe and pulls out his sleep pants and a tank top.  She chuckles.  “Did you forget about the storm?”

He smirks, “I’m not going outside.  I’m just running to the kitchen.  That doesn’t even require shoes.”

“Could you see if Josie is in her office?  I asked her to get some books for me and I want to know if she got them.”

“Am I running errands now?”

She sticks out her bottom lip, “Please.”  He walks over to her and goes to kiss her.  She pulls away.

“That’s is going to get old very quickly.  But I get it.”  He kisses her forehead.  “Try to finish that and keep it down.  I’ll be back after I find grapes and Josie.”

“Thank you.”

“You are so lucky I love you.”

“Yes, I am.”  He runs his finger down her scar and heads down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 26, 2018


	4. Unwell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama and fluff lol

With the storm gone and her training complete, they are ready to hit the road. Dagna has managed to complete her armor request with the armor pieces Shea already had.  The red leather padding is the same, but the metal is lighter, thinner.  But it is still strong.  Dagna even added a spot on the back of her armor to hold both her axe and her new staff.  The dark wood twists and curls around a pearly white stone.  It is designed to make her spirit magic stronger, which aids in healing and protection spells.  She meets Cullen, Dorian, Bull, and Cole at the gates.  The horses are already packed and ready when she gets there.  She skips up to Cullen and plants kiss on him.  “Did you get what I asked for?”

“Yes.  There should be enough to last until we get to Ghislain.  Josie has secured us accommodations in the city and Vivienne will be meeting us there.  And your book is in the saddle bag.”

“Then I guess we’re ready to go.”  They all mount their horses and ride out of Skyhold.  Even though it’s winter, Shea has a huge smile on her face.  She’s finally free.  Finally back out in the world.  Ready to do good and close rifts.  Just like old times, except this time there is no ancient evil trying to kill them and her fiancé is travelling with them. 

As soon as they reach the valley below, Shea groans.  She gets off her horse and hands her reins to Cullen.  She ducks behind the keep and throws up her breakfast.  She gets back on her horse and Cullen is already holding the water skin out for her.  She rinses her mouth and spits it out before taking a drink.  She hands it back to him.  “This is going to be a long trip.”

They start riding again and Cole rides up next to her.  He hands her a large cup.  “I took it from the tavern.  That way you don’t have to stop every time.”

“Thank you, Cole.”

“I can wash it out for you when we stop.”

“Again.  Thank you.”

He pulls a bag of cubes from one of his horse’s bags.  “I buried this when it was storming.  When it froze, it cut it into blocks.”

“What is it?”

“Apple juice.”

She smiles.  “You seem to have thought about this more than we have.”

“It was in your book.  I read some of it too see if I could help.”

Cullen smiles over his shoulder, “Thank you, Cole.”

Shea opens the bag and takes cube out.  She slides it in her mouth.  “Oh man.  This is genius!”  She closes the bag and waves her hand over it.  The bag freezes solid.  “There.  Now they won’t melt.”

Cole smiles brightly and pulls out another bag.  “Do it to this one too!”  She waves her hand over the bag in his hands and he puts it back.  “Now you can have grape juice later!”

She smiles at him, “Cole, if my fiancé weren’t here, I’d kiss you.”

The whole group chuckles including Cullen.  He looks back and smirks at her.  “Hey.  Don’t mind me.  Go for it.”

Cole’s face turns bright red and he rides his face under his hat.  Shea pats his leg.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t.  He’s just messing with you.”

“I’ve never done that before.  But it looks nice.”

“It can be.”

“Hot, wet, soft.  A prelude to something more.  Cullen, Hawke, Thomas.  All good, all different.”  Her eyes go wide.  Cullen pulls on the reins of his horse and falls back to ride beside her.

“Who is Thomas?”

Cole opens his mouth to answer.  She points at him.  “Don’t do it.”

“Shea.  Who is Thomas and why am I just hearing about him?”

She groans, “It was a stupid dare.  When I was around 11, I met this boy and developed a crush.  It was nothing.”

“He was your first kiss?”

She blushes, “Yes.”

“But who was he?”

“The son of one of my father’s business associates.  I wouldn’t be remotely surprised if my father was trying to track him down once I became an heir.”

“How did it happen?”

She sighs, “He was my first crush and I wasn’t the brave young thing I am now.  Well, at least not when it came to boys.  His family was visiting my father and someone among us children suggested we play a game.  So, we ran around the garden daring each other to do odd, silly things.  I was all good fun until some girl, who was supposed to be my friend and quickly wasn’t after this, dared him to kiss me.  In a closet.  And we weren’t allowed to come out until they came to get us.  We were supposes to kiss each other the whole time.  Thinking back on it, I wonder how they would have known.  But not one for breaking the rules of a game, I went along with it.”

Cullen laughs, “It’s funny that kids play the same games no matter where they are from.  I never got put in a closet, but I’ve seen it happen.  How long were you stuck in there?”

She laughs, “They forgot about us.  We just stayed in that closet, making out for a very long time.  We never spoke again after that.”

“Why not?”

“We were embarrassed.  He was older.  Maybe 14.  He got an erection and I freaked out.  I screamed and when they opened the door I ran out told everyone.”

They all laugh.  Dorian chuckles, “I got put in a closet once.  We ended up locking the door and staying in there all night.”

Bull chuckles, “Was this boy or a girl?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.  She is a girl, like Krem is a man.”

Shea gasps dramatically, “You had sex with some random girl in a closet?”

“She started it.”

“Had she ever…?”

“No.  She was innocent until that moment.”

She shakes her head, “I’m surprised at you, Master Pavus.  What ever happened to her?”

He laughs, “She became my closest ally and friend.  She’s the only person in Tevinter who really knows who I am.”

She smiles, “Is this your contact in Qarinus who I’ve been working with?”

“Maevaris.  Yes.”

Bull guffaws, “You fucked Mae?!  Oh, I bet she’s going to kill you for telling everyone.”

“Oh, people knew and were thrilled.  Let the freaks hang out together. But I became a pariah and she a magister.”

Shea smiles at him, “I hope I get to meet her someday.”

He laughs, “That means a trip to the Imperium.  And I highly doubt your templar would let that happen.”

Cullen shrugs, “There are rifts up there.”

Dorian waves his hand, “It’ll never happen.  I not even sure when I will be going home.”

Cole looks at Shea, “Where is that boy now?”

Dorian nods to Cole and rides up ahead.  Shea shakes her head, “No idea.  I’m not even sure where he was from.  Probably married with kids by now.”

“So, why didn’t you tell me about this Thomas?”

She laughs, “Because I had forgotten about him.  It completely slipped my mind.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

It is the truth whether he wants to believe her or not.  She had only known him one day and they had fun in a closet and then she never spoke to him again.  The only reason it even came up was because Cole had read her mind and plucked the long forgotten event from her mind.  She can’t tell if he is mad or not.  And even if he is mad over it, that is his problem.  She hadn’t kept it from him on purpose.  Just like he hadn’t kept being an avid reader from her on purpose.

“Cullen?”

“Yes?”

“Who was your first kiss?”

He scratches his chin.  He chuckles as he remembers, “Some girl in the village.  I don’t remember how old I was, but I had just recused her doll from some bullies.  Got my ass kicked in the process, but I did it.  And she kissed me when I gave it back to her.  Called me her hero and ran off.”

Shea laughs, “Why did you do that?”

“I had wanted to be a templar since I was 8.  I’d go to the Chantry every day to see the templars there.  I think they took pity on me and showed me a few things.  Then they told me a templar’s job was to help people.  Protect them from the evils of the world.  I had no idea what it meant at the time, but when I saw those boys I knew I had to do something.”

She smiles at him.  “So, you’ve had that goodness in you from the start.”

He sighs, “One day I’m going to have to tell you what _I_ have done in the name of protecting others and see if you still feel that way afterwards.”

Silence falls over the group as they ride through the Frostbacks.  No one knows what to say after his dark comment.  She reaches into her bag and pulls out the pages of her family tree that Moira copied for her.  They are still a long way off, but the weight of this is already sitting heavy on her heart.  If their suspicions prove true, she feels like she really doesn’t know anything about her life.  Who was she?  Who was her real mother?  Why hadn’t she been a part of her life?  Was she an elf?  A servant?  She places her hand on her stomach and looks down at it.  How could a mother just leave her child?  Shea is completely taken by her child and it isn’t even born yet.  Did she die giving birth to her?  Would Shea die giving birth to her child?  A chill runs up her spine.

She quickly tries to think of something else.  Anything else.  She watches Cullen riding ahead of her.  The cool mountain breeze ruffling his hair.  She grumbles.  Looking at him is doing nothing to take her mind off the dangerous path it is going down.

Cole, always her saving grace, breaks the silence, “Has anyone been thinking of what they’ll pick if they win the bet?”

She sighs.  Though still baby related, it is at least something happy.  Cullen smiles.  He really likes the change of topic.  “I have a few in mind.”

Shea smirks, “Is that so?”

“Yes.  But I think I’m going to keep them to myself for now.”

“Then so will I.”  Though in truth she couldn’t think of anything.

Dorian chuckles, “Well, so much for that conversation.”

Cole looks over at Shea, “I have one.”

“Really?”

He nods.  “I have one picked out for a boy and one for a girl.”

“Well, what are they?”

“Felix and Andria.”

Dorian shakes his head, “I’m sorry, but you can’t have Felix.”

She knows exactly why she can’t have the name Felix, but she wonders why he would say that.  “Is there something we should know, Dorian?”

Bull looks over at him, “Yeah, sounds like we’re missing something.”

Dorian glances over at Bull and then looks away.  “We all know that’s impossible, but if it ever did…”

Bull grabs the reins of Dorian’s horse and pulls both horses to a stop.  “You three go on ahead.  We’ll catch up.”

Shea nods.  This is obviously a conversation they’ve never had.  She actually doubts they ever talk about their future.  Neither of them wanting to consider that it might not work because they are so very different.  She knows that Dorian plans to one day go back to Tevinter and it’s not exactly the best place for a Qunari, even one who is Tal-Vashoth.

She rides a ways before looking back at Cole, “So, any other options since one you yours got turned down?”

“The only one that comes to mind is Rhys, but I can keep thinking.”

Shea smiles, “We’ve got time.”

The silence that falls over the group isn’t uncomfortable.  They are all thinking about possible names.  They arrive at their first stop as night falls.  Dorian and Bull haven’t caught up yet.  Shea slides off her horse and Cullen takes the reins from her.  She smiles at him and starts getting the fire ready.

***

There is officially one thing Shea hopes to never do again.  Travel by ship while pregnant.  She is still leaning over the edge of the ship when they start pulling into the dock at Val Royeaux.  Her stomach has been empty for a long time and her body aches from the constant dry heaving.  Cullen is actually very worried about her health.  She can barely hold herself up.  She powered through the cubes Cole had brought in the first day on the ship.  She is never alone during their sea voyage.  There tend to her in shifts making sure she doesn’t fall over board.  As soon as the ship is close enough to the dock, Dorian jumps from the ship onto the deck and rushes through the streets looking for someone to help her.  Both the mages are tapped out, but because Dorian could eat and sleep he is able to replenish his magic on his own.  She has taken every vial of lyrium they had just to keep healing herself enough to keep her going.  She is starving, sleep deprived, and the withdrawals are starting.  “Hang on, love.  We’re almost docked.”

“Just to let you know, I’m focusing what’s left on the baby.  Keeping it cool.”

“Bull and Cole are going to tend to our things.”

She shakes against him, “I know.  I might look terrible, but I’m still coherent.  Ish.”  The crew of the ship is trying to hurry.  They are the same men Shea has worked with in the past.  They know her and they are big supporters of the Inquisition.  They pushed the ship as fast as they could safely get it, so they would arrive faster.  But docking is a slow process.  He scoops her up in his arms and she tries to protest.  She wiggles weakly against him and then sighs.  “This sucks.”

“If you are still sick when we leave Ghislain, we’ll take the long way around to avoid the…”

“Maker don’t say it.”

The crew motions him over as they lower the gangway into place.  Dorian pushes through the crowd that has gathered.  “I’ve got a healer and a midwife.  They aren’t far away.”

“Great.  Lead the way.”

Dorian makes a path for them through the crowd as murmurs start circulating that the Inquisitor is dying.  Shea covers her ears to avoid hearing them.  Her head is pounding and sweat is pouring off her.  She checks in with her spell and feels it waning.  “Cullen, you need to go faster.  The spell will snap any second.”

They pick up speed.  He is walking quickly not wanting to run at the risk of jostling her.  Dorian pushes open a door and holds it open for them.  The healer hands her an open vial of lyrium as soon as they enter.  Cullen holds his breath as she downs it.  She sighs in relief as her magic surges.  The healer motions ahead of her, “This way.”  They follow her through the building.  They arrive in an ornate sitting room.  The noble who lives there greets them and lets them know that all kinds of food is being prepared in the hopes she can keep something down.  Cullen sets her down on a couch.  He gets shoved away from Shea by a hefty, dark haired woman.

“How long has it been?”

“Three days.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.  Are you in any pain, dear?”  Shea nods.  “I need this armor off her.”  Cullen pushes past the woman and deftly removes the metal pieces.  Cole appears beside him and hands Cullen her bag.  He pulls it open and pulls out the shirt she sleeps in.  Her unlaces her padded shirt and quickly switches it out with the loose shirt.  He removes her boots and pants and the gets shoved out of the way.  “Everyone out!”

The rooms clear of everyone but the healer, the midwife, and Cullen.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

The woman looks him over.  “Are you the father?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can stay.  Just stay out of our way.”  Cullen moves to stand by the back of the couch looking down at her.  She reaches her hand up to him and he takes it between both of his.  The woman presses low on her abdomen and Shea winces.  He closes his ears and prays.  Shea does the same.  The woman motions to the healer and she places her hands on Shea’s bump.

She nods, “The child is fine so far.  Whatever you were doing with your magic has protected it.”

The other woman scoffs, “That will mean nothing if she starves to death.”  The woman turns to a bag near her and pulls out a cloth with something wet wrapped in it.  “Suck on this, child.”  She shoves it in Shea’s mouth and she does as instructed.

Cullen watches her suck on the cloth, “What is that for?”

“It’s of the pain and to settle her stomach.  Now, be silent or you’ll join the others in the hall.”  Shea squeezes his hand.  Her looks into her tired eyes. They are telling him to shut up.  He smiles and kisses the back of her hand.  Shea’s eyes start to droop closed.  The woman shakes her, “Not yet. You need to eat something first.”  A cart of food gets wheeled in.  Shea covers her nose at the mix of rich smells.  The woman rolls her eyes and goes over to the cart.  She smells various plates of food before selecting one.  She sends the cart away and approaches Shea.  “Smell this.”  Shea uncovers her nose and takes a tentative whiff.  She pulls her hand from Cullen’s and grab the plate.  “I thought so.  Eat that and I’ll bring more.”

She tries to sit up and Cullen helps her.  He sits behind her and takes the plate from her hands.  He pulls apart the steaming bread and feeds it to her one piece at a time, waiting to make sure it stays down before giving her another.  Once the bread is gone, he breaks apart the hunks of cheese and continues.  She eats the whole plate.  The midwife comes back in and hands him another plate of the same food.  “Feed her until she feels like she can’t eat anymore.”

Shea clears her throat, “Could I get some apple or grape juice?  That helped the first day.”  The midwife nods to her and leaves.  Cullen breaks apart the food and feeds her.  She smirks at him.  “I can probably feed myself.”

“Yes, but if it just stand there and appear useless she might kick me out.”

She chuckles.  “We wouldn’t want that.”

“We’re probably going to have to stay in Val Royeaux a few days until you are well.”

“I figured.  That might ruin a surprise I’ve been working on, but I suppose it can just be delayed a bit.”

“Surprise?” She smirks and doesn’t respond.  A glass gets shoved into his hand and then the woman walks away.  “She reminds me of Adan.”

Shea laughs. He hands her the glass and she sips at purple liquid.  “It is sad that I sometimes imagine this is wine?”

“Not at all.  I know how much you’ve acquired a taste for it.  I blame Dorian.”

She chuckles, “Blame yourself.  My favorite will always be that Antivan Port you got me.”

“That was more Josephine than…”

“Don’t ruin it.  I blame you.  End of story.”

“Then I suppose I will take that blame.”  She sits up and faces him.  “Love, you should be laying down.”

“I need to sit up so this food will settle otherwise…”

He nods and she sits back on the couch.  She reaches up her shirt and unlaces her breast band.  She hums in relief as they are freed.  “I’m going to need a new one of those.”

“Why?”  She smirks and motions to her chest.  “Maker’s breath.”  Her breasts have grown.  “How have I not noticed…?”

“It’s a recent development and the armor hides them.”

The midwife chuckles.  “The father’s always have the same expression when they notice this change.  You look better.”

“I feel better.  Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Inquisitor.  We owe you our lives, this is the least we can do.  I understand that Master Pavus has secured rooms at the inn for you?”

She shrugs.  “I haven’t heard that, but it would make sense.”

“I would like you to stay here for the night.  The lady of the house is due at any moment and I cannot leave to go check on you.”

Cullen nods, “Then we’ll stay.”

“Thank you.” She walks off again. 

“I hate to leave you, but I need to let them know our plans.”

She reaches over and runs her finger down his scar.  “I’ll be ok.  Just hurry back.”

He sets the plate in her lap, kisses her forehead, and rushes out of the room.  Shea picks at the food on the plate.  She feels hungry still, but knows she shouldn’t push her luck.  _A starving man who eats too quickly is destined to die from the very thing he craves._   A woman’s scream echoes down the stairs.  Shea looks around and watches the nobleman come down the stairs.  “Everything alright?”

“Yes, Lady Inquisitor.  The baby is coming.  I’ve been kicked out.”

“Is this your first child?”

He chuckles, “Heavens no.  Our fourth.”

“Fourth?”

He nods, “My love wanted a big family and I was all too happy to give it to her.”

“Where the rest of your children?”

He sits on the couch opposite her and removes his mask.  He wipes the sweat from his brow and sets the mask beside him.  He is much younger than she thought he’d be.  “They are with my cousin.  They are a curious bunch and they adore their mother.  All of this would destress the poor dears.”  There is a knock at the door.  “If you’ll excuse me.” He puts his mask on and leaves the room.  Shea hears his frantic and excited voice drift from the hallway.  He rushes back in the room and quickly shoves all of her armor pieces under the couch.  “Lady Inquisitor.  You have a visitor.”  He bows low and waits there.  Shea turns her head and nearly jumps off the couch.

“Le… Divine Victoria!  To what do I owe such an honor?”

Leliana smiles brightly at Shea.  It’s the first time Shea has seen her since she left and then elected.  It is a little strange to see her in the large hat and robes of the Divine instead of her usual hooded look.  “Could we have the room?”

“Certainly, Your Holiness.  It is truly and honor to have you in my home.”  The man backs out of the room and goes up the stairs.

Leliana comes over to Shea and sits next to her.  She leans over and hugs her.  Shea gladly hugs her back.  “No offense, but you look terrible.”

Shea chuckles, “I feel pretty terrible.  I’m trying to put on a brave face for Cullen.  He worries about me enough as it is.”

“He always has.  Even when he didn’t know you.”

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve him, but I’m happy we found each other.  What brings you here?”

Leliana smiles, “I heard you were passing through Val Royeaux and I had my people watching the port.  When they said you had arrived and looked on the verge of death, I had to come see you.  Against the wishes of many of the Grand Clerics, fearing that whatever was killing you was contagious.”

Shea laughs, “Unless you can pass a combination of morning and sea sickness on to someone else, I think you’ll be ok.”

“So, the rumors are true.  You and the Commander are having a child.”  Shea smooths out her shirt over her bump.  It’s still no more than a little mound low on her stomach, but it’s becoming more visible with every passing week.  Leliana extends her hand and rests it on her stomach. “How far along are you?”

“Just over 9 weeks.”

Leliana thinks for a moment.  “Conceived in his office then?”

Shea laughs, “I see you haven’t lost your touch since being elected.”

“I think I see more than ever now.  I have more spies spread all over my domain.  Which is extremely useful for both the Chantry and the Inquisition.  People are very happy that you are returning to the field.  Though this latest appearance doesn’t bode well for your image.”

“I’m hoping to fix that once I’ve had some sleep and built my strength back up.  The last thing I want is for people to think I’m dying or abandoning them.”

“I may need to borrow the Commander until then.  He’s an official in the Inquisition and his presence away from your side and in public will greatly help matters.”

Shea chuckles, “Good luck getting him to leave my side.”

Leliana smirks, “I can be very persuasive.”

They turn to the door as an angry voice drifts in from the hallway.  Leliana shakes her head and calls out, “It’s alright.  Let him in.”  Cullen enters the room taking a final glance at the people who prevented him from entering.

“Most Holy!  It feels like it’s been ages.”

Leliana stands and pulls him into a hug.  He stiffens as she has never hugged him before and now she’s Divine.  She chuckles and pulls away.  “You look well, Cullen.”

“The robes suit you.”

“Someone needs to do something about this hat though.  I keep hitting it on doorways.”

They laugh.  Cullen sits next to Shea and sees she hasn’t finished eating.  “Not hungry?”

“I am, but I wanted what I had already eaten to fully settle before trying again.  No sense getting too full too fast or it’s all coming back up.”

He presses his lips against her temple.  He turns his attention back to Leliana, “So, what brings you here?”

“Just checking on my friends.  Rumors around town is that Shea is dying.  I had to come see for myself.  Glad to know that’s not entirely true.  Also, congratulations.”

He smiles and looks over at Shea.  “Thank you.”

“Cullen.  I have a request.”

He looks back at her, “Name it.”

“With these rumors flying about, the Inquisition will need to do damage control.  They would be comforted to see you walking with me in the streets since it is slowly becoming public knowledge that you and the Inquisitor are romantically involved and that she might be carrying your bastard.  Their words not mine.  But if you were seen confidently walking around, it would let people know that you don’t fear for her life.”

“But I do.  She’s not out of the woods yet.”

Shea chuckles, “That’s a bit dramatic, dear.  It’ll take a few days for me to be back on my feet again, but I’m not dying any time soon.”

“And why are people so fixed on us having a child without being married?”

Leliana shakes her head, “Commander you seem to forget that the Inquisitor is an heir to Ostwick.  A noble.  If she were a commoner, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Mages can’t hold positions of power.  Shouldn’t that make her exempt?”

“My brother has openly stated to the people of Ostwick that he doesn’t care if I’m a mage.  The only thing that would keep me from becoming Bann in the event of his death would be to prove that we had different mothers.  Or he has children, but that seems like a long way off.”

Leliana nods, “True.  Speaking of, have we heard from Cassandra since she left Kirkwall?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I’ll send one of my scouts to make sure she made it.”

“Leliana, you have your own problems to deal with.”

“She is my friend and one of my advisors.  She denied my offer of being my Right Hand.  I understand, of course.  She has goals outside the Chantry now and I don’t blame her.  But with all the trouble your family has been experiencing, I worry about her.”

“Any luck finding Trevelyans in the Chantry?”

Leliana nods, “They are scattered all over Thedas, most of them are aging, but there are a handful of young ones, though they are still older than you.  They have no desire to rejoin the family and have gone so far as to say that they have cast off all ties with their relatives because of how their templar brothers reacted to the war, Corypheus, and you.  Though they say they don’t wish to be Trevelyans, they gladly proclaim their relation to the Hero of Thedas.”

Shea’s eyes go wide, “That’s a new one.”

“The rulers of almost every country in Thedas are talking about making it official.  Orlais and Ferelden have already accepted it as well as the Chantry.  I think once you close more rifts in other places, the others might fully declare it.”

“Great.  Another title.”

Cullen laughs, “For someone who is trying to distance yourself from titles and nobility, you sure are good at picking them up.  Just imagine the next time you have to be presented to the court.”

She groans and puts her head in her hands, “At this rate, I’m going to be standing there as long as Cassandra has to when they start rattling off her middle names.”

Leliana and Cullen laugh.  “I think she’ll always beat you in introduction length.  Especially if she marries your brother.”  Shea joins in with their laughing.  “I should be going.  Though I am enjoying spending time with people who don’t treat me like I’m made of glass and the slightest word will offend my innocent ears.”

They laugh again.  Shea attempts to stand and Cullen puts a hand on her shoulder to keep her seated.  “She can come to your level.”

He stands up and, though it feels awkward, he offers Leliana a hug.  She accepts and they hug each other.  They pull apart and Leliana gently hugs Shea.  “Now, I’m sure the man who lives here will want some kind of blessing.”

“He’s probably upstairs waiting for his child to be born.”

Leliana smirks, “Guess I know where I’m going then.”  She places her hand on top of Shea’s head.  “I’ll pray for you too.  It looks like you could use it.”

Shea chuckles, “Thanks.”

“Maker watch over you.”

Cullen bows to her, “You as well, Your Holiness.”

Leliana shakes her head and leaves the room.  Cullen sits next to her.  She suddenly notices he isn’t wearing his armor.  “When did you change?”

“While I was getting the others set up at the inn.”  She leans against him and he wraps his arms around her shoulders.  She yawns.  He takes the empty cup from her hands and sets it and the plate on the floor.  He pulls her to sit sideways on his lap, her side presses against his chest, and surrounds her with his arms.  She tucks her head under his chin and curls up against him.  She feels so small in his arms.  He knows she has lost some weight from throwing up and being on a mostly liquid diet for nearly two weeks, but he can feel her spine jutting out from her curved back as he rubs it.  It doesn’t take long for her to go limp in his arms.  Her head lulls with her chin resting on her chest.  The noble comes back down the stairs beaming.  Cullen turns his head to face the man and presses his index finger against his lips.  The man nods.  Cullen’s eyes shift up the stairs, “How is she?”

The man whispers, “I will be sometime yet, but she’s doing well.  And how is the Inquisitor?”

“She seems to be doing better.”

“That’s excellent news.”  He glances up the stairs.  “I have a guest room, if you would like to move her somewhere more comfortable.  I can have someone bring her armor up later.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” Cullen carefully shifts her sleeping body.  He wraps one arm around her shoulders and threads the other one under her knees.  The nobleman comes to stand beside him, bracing him as he stands up off the couch.  Her head lulls a bit and groan escapes her lips, but she stays asleep.  Cullen follows the man through his elegant home.  The man opens a door to a small bedroom.

“I would request that you not go further down this hallway.  My wife is not to be disturbed as per the midwife’s instructions.”

“Thanks again.”  He bows slightly, before closing the door.  Cullen moves over the bed and sets her down on top of the blankets.  She curls onto her side facing the edge of the bed.  Not having slept soundly on the ship with worry for her, he decides to join her.  He takes off his boots and his belt that holds his sword.  He sets them against the wall.   He doesn’t bother with the blankets.  The fire in this room as made it very warm and in combination with her heat, he figures he wouldn’t need them.  He lays on his side in the center of the bed.  Even in sleep she can sense him and before he can pull her towards him, she rolls over and curls against his chest.  She hums in her sleep when his arms circle her.

He watches her settle into a deep sleep.  Her mouth falling open, her fingers gripping the side of his shirt.  Her eyes move behind her eyes.  He sighs, “So much for a peacefully rest.”  He kisses her forehead and pulls her in tight.  He closes his eyes and makes a silent prayer to the Maker thanking him for keeping her alive.

***

Shea opens her eyes to see a large grassy field with a river bubbling down one side.  She looks down at herself and she is wearing leggings, Cullen’s cream colored shirt, and leg wraps around the lower part of her legs and feet, much like Moira and Solas wear.  The cool breeze ruffles her hair and blows it front of her.  The long auburn waves are the length they were before she had cut her hair off with a dagger.  She looks around this field trying to place where she is.  She doesn’t recognize it at all.  The breeze blows again bringing with it a whisper.

She strains to hear it, but can’t make out what it says.  She turns to face into the wind.  When it comes again, it blows her hair back and it whispers her name.  Without even thinking about it, her bare feet move through the soft grass towards the sound.

With ever step and every breath of wind, she gets closer to the voice that calls her name.  She stops when the grass suddenly drops off, forming a cliff.  The river barrels over the side forming an angry waterfall.  She peers over the edge.  The water pours into a vast black abyss.  She takes a few careful steps back.  The breeze blows her hair behind her.  The voice calling to her.  Her foot starts to move and she forces it back down on the grass. The wind blows harder and brings with it a command, “Garas, da’len.”

She calls out, “Come where?  There is nowhere to walk.”

The breeze gently drifts towards her, “Garas.”

Her feet move against her will.  She draws closer and closer to falling in to the abyss.  Her foot steps over the edge and it meets resistance.  She looks down and she stepping on something she can’t see.  As her feet continue to move forward over the invisible surface, she looks all around her.  She has never seen this place and looking down as she appears to hover over this abyss makes her very uneasy.

When she reaches the other side, she falls to her knees.  She thanks the Maker she didn’t fall in.  She hears a familiar chuckle.  “You should not be thanking Him.  He is not the one who kept you from falling.”

She jumps to her feet and spins around, “Solas?”

The breeze blows against her face, “Garas.”

The voice on the breeze isn’t his.  She would know his voice.  “Solas?  If you’re here… I have so many questions.”

Her feet move without her telling them to.  She looks around for where his voice may have come from.  She is swallowed by a dense fog that comes out of nowhere.  “Garas, da’len.”

Her heart races in her chest.  She can’t see anything and as she walks the soft grass transitions into hard stone.  Her feet stop moving of their own accord.  The sun sets rapidly, taking all light from the area.  She pulls a ball of white light into her hand.  The thick fog still surrounds her.  “You’ve learned quickly.”

“Solas!  Where are you?”

She holds the ball high trying to see through the fog.  She feels droplets of water hit her face.  She looks up and the downpour begins.  Sheets of rain soak her.  She wraps one arm around her chest.  She shivers as water drips and pours off her skin, clothes, and hair.  The fog melts away.  She looks around the water soaked ruins.  They resemble the Temple of Mythal, but something is different about these.  They are older and more worn.  The mosaics on the walls are fractured and crumbling.  A statue of the Dread Wolf sits in the very center of the area.  She slowly approaches the statue.  The light in her hand fading away as she is drawn in by its eyes.  They glow blue as she reaches the base of it.  She is mesmerized by it.  Her arms fall limp at her sides.  Her magic buzzes under her skin.  It’s an arousing feeling.  Like when Cullen brushes his fingers lightly across her skin.  Her eyes close but her the rest of her senses are on high alert.

Magic caresses her under her skin in a loving way.  She mouth falls open and warmth spreads through her.  The cool rain failing over her creating a very pleasurable experience.  Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she becomes breathless and wet in more than one way.  She turns her face up to the sky savoring the feeling of the rain dancing on her face.  She has never liked rain after Crestwood, but this is different somehow.  She can feel the magic all around her.  This rain is not natural.  Or at least it isn’t coming from the sky.

The drops running down her body feel like hundreds of fingertips trailing down her flesh, weaving into her hair, and sliding over her firm peaks.  A weight settles on her shoulders and she sits on the ground.  She lays on her back spreading her arms to the side with her palms up.  A warm breezes brushes only her face.  Her eyes feel glued closed.  Though she wants to know what this is all about, the pleasure coursing through her whole body makes her more than willing to submit to whatever is about to happen.

The warm air travels from her face and down her neck.  She moans and the air gets warmer.  Something hot and slick moves against her neck.  Her legs part and she lays spread out on the ground.  The rain water pools around her.  Something brushes across each of her painful erect nipples.  She moans and her eyes open.  She is alone.  The Dread Wolf statue staring down at her.  The warm breeze cuts through the rain and a gravelly voice drifts over her, “Garas, da’len.”

Her eyes snap closed.  Her hands move on their own.  They move to her sides and her fingers trail up her flat stomach.  They move up her abdomen, pressing the soaked fabric into her skin.  She grasps her breasts, squeezing them and moaning.  She flicks and twists her nipple through the shirt.  She writhes on the ground, completely losing track of where she is or why.  The warm breeze returns along with the feeling of fingers pressing against her.  They trace her curves.  The heat from the touch moves between her thighs.  Her legs open further and she presses her bare feet flat on the wet stone.

Something heavy settles on top of her.   Her hands trapped between the weight and her breasts.  She tries to open her eyes, but she can’t.  The unmistakable feeling of lips caress the underside of her chin.  Her breath hitches in her throat.  Whatever magic that is pulsing through her roots her to the ground.  The lips crash into hers and hers move with them.  The kiss is hot and wet from the rain.  This mysterious being breaths in to her mouth, “Garas.”

“Why do you keep repeating that?”

The lips capture hers again.  She hears chuckling from somewhere far off.  “Have you forgotten the language already?”  With the mouth and body on hers, she can do nothing to respond.  “Let me remind you then.  It means come.”

She gasps and moans as what feels like a hands rubs against her slick folds through the rain drenched fabric.  Her body has betrayed her.  She is fighting this.  Just by weight and feel, she knows this being isn’t Cullen.  Why is this happening?  And why is it Solas’s voice speaking to her?  The moment she is about to reach her end, the being kisses her.   Her magic surges and she feels it start to drain from her.  “Give in, Shea.  You’ll be happier.”

She shoves hard against the being sucking her magic from her.  But it is more than that.  More than just her magic.  It feels like it is sucking out her very soul.  She squeezes her eyes closed trying to ignore the continued attention to her clit.  She tries to pull the magic back.  And the tug of war starts.  Her lips locked to the lips of whatever this thing is.  Every time she thinks she is gaining ground, the threat of orgasming breaks her focus.  Her lips are sore and tingle as her magic approaches them.

She claws at the figure that keeps her pinned to the ground.  She summons lighting in her fingers and zaps it.  A loud howl pierces the air.  The rain stops and the weight shifts.  Her eyes fly open.  The figure has its face shrouded as it howls at the sky.  The statue’s eyes are glowing even brighter.  “Garas.”

“No.”

“Submit.  You will be happier.”

Her breath catches in her throat.  She looks up at the shroud figure that is straddling her.  “Solas?”

“No.  Not Solas.”  There is something odd about the voice now.  Like it’s being mimicked.  It never was Solas.  The strong hot wind blows and the figure vanishes.  The weight holding her down lifts.

Shea sits up right in bed.  Her breath hitched high in her throat as she gasps.  This is the fifth night in a row she has had this dream.  The sun has just barely begun to rise through the window in their room at the inn.  A hand pulls her back down on the bed.  She sighs against him and curls up on his chest.  His arms circle her and run through her matted her.  “Same one?”  She nods.

“I kept trying to take control like Solas told me to do once, but it never changes.  The power this dream had over me never wavered, even though I knew right from the beginning it was a dream.”

His kisses her forehead, “Maybe you should talk to Dorian?”

“I’m not sure if he can help.  He’s not a Dreamer.”  She sighs and sits up.  He tries to hold her down but she shoots him a look.  He holds up his hands and she slides off the bed.   She pulls a piece of paper, a quill, and vial of ink from her bag.  She returns to the bed and begins writing.

“Who are you writing to?”

“Moira.  This dream has so many elven elements I’m hoping that she can help me figure out what it means.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head back on the pillow.  As he drifts back to sleep, she snaps her fingers and his eyes pop open.  She looks at him apologetically.  “Sorry, sweetheart.  But it’s the only way to get her here.”

“What?”

Sky flies in from a tiny rift that closes behind her.  He rolls his eyes.  _Blasted bird._   She folds the paper and then rolls it tightly.  She slips in the metal tube.  “Take that to Moira, please.”  The bird bends its head and Shea smiles.  She scratches the bird’s head.  The small rift opens again and Sky flies through it.  The little rift closes behind her.

“I’ve mentioned how much that bird creeps me out, right?”

She chuckles.  She closes the ink vial and sets both it and the quill on the floor.  She crawls over to him and kisses him.  “Yes, you have.  But I have also seen you love on her.”

“I don’t love on her.”

“That’s what the head scratching is.”

He smirks, “Well, you’ve spoiled the blasted thing and now it thinks it a pet.”

She smiles, “Sky is a pet.  The only pet I’ve ever had actually.”

He runs his fingers through her hair, “We’re going to have to fix that.  And I think you know what I have my heart set on.”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t even know where you’d get a mabari.”

“Ferelden.  They are treasured and hard to come by.  And even if you came across one there’s no guarantee that it would… that it would imprint on you.”

She ruffles his hair, “You’ll find one someday.”

He smiles dreamily, “I hope so.”  She laughs and gets back out of bed.  She throws the curtains open and he groans covering his eyes.  “You seem to be feeling better.”

“I’m still nauseous, but at least I can keep some food down.  I… also hired her.”

He sits up, “What?”

“Not right away!  But that woman knows her stuff.  I would have never been able to figure out what the hell to do to stop being so sick all the time.  I mean I only puked 3 times yesterday.  She’ll come to Skyhold when I’m a month away and help get things prepared.  I told her about how your family has a history of being early, but she doesn’t think that’ll be a problem.  Unless it comes a month early like you were.”

He rubs his eyes, “What is this woman’s name?”

“Ann.  It’s a very simple name, I would think you could remember that.”

“I was hoping to never see her again.”

She chuckles.  “Well, she’s coming by later to give me some things for the road to make travel more comfortable.  I’m well enough to go confront my mother and close some rifts.”

He pulls back the covers revealing his beautifully naked body.  “Then I’d better put on clothes.”  She admires the view as he walks towards her.  He runs his nose up the side of her neck.  “I see that look, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Can’t help it, sweetheart.  You are mouthwatering.”

He steps back from her, “Well tough.  Because it is hands off until you are passed this.”

“Oh _now_ you’re listening to her advice.”

He shrugs as he pulls on his smallclothes.  “You’re the one who was hanging on her every word for the past few days.”

“Yes, because she is an expert on bring healthy children into this world.”  She pulls a book from her bag, “Did you know she wrote the book we’ve been reading?”

He looks over his shoulder and he laces up his pants. “Really?”

“Yep.  And Josie says this is the go to book for expecting parents.  Primarily because it’s the only book for expecting parents.”  She flips the pages as he continues to dress.  “See here?  It says, ‘Sex is a natural part of any couple’s desire.  This is not any different for expecting parents.  However, there are a few things to keep in mind depending on how far along in the pregnancy she is.’  Have you gotten to this chapter yet?”

“Not yet.  I’m still on the chapter about what’s happening to your breasts.”

She laughs.  “Of course, you’d skip to that one.”

He tucks in his shirt and takes the book from her hands.  “I didn’t skip to it.  He flips to the front of the book and starts flipping pages.  “Ah.  Here we go.  ‘Have you noticed how large your breasts have gotten this month?  Well, buckle up because this is only the beginning.  The more the baby grows the more your breasts will swell.  There will be lots of soreness in this second month, so tell your man to keep his hands off.  Unless you are into that sort of thing.’  See.  It’s in the second chapter.”  She takes the book from him and he points to the page.

She laughs, “How did I miss that?”

“Because you like to flip around and don’t read it in order.”

She snaps the book closed and returns it to her bag.  “I can’t help it if I have questions about something specific and have to hunt around for it.  And I’ve entered my third month.”

“If you’d read it in order, then you have a better idea of what to expect before it becomes an issue.  For instance, did you know chewing on ginger root will help with motion sickness?”

“She told me that.”

“Well, I read that in chapter 2.”

She laughs, “Are we making this a competition too?  Who can learn more about all this the fastest?”

He smirks, “No, but I have a pet peeve about reading books out of order.  Avid reader, remember.”

She grabs the scruff growing on his chin and pulls him down to eye level.  “You are an adorable nerd.”

He kisses her.  “I’ll take that as a complement.”

“You should.  A nerd with a fine ass.”

He laughs.  “Yes, you are definitely feeling more like yourself.”  She smiles and helps him put on the rest of his armor.  There’s a knock at the door.

“That’ll be Ann.”  Shea goes to the door and opens it.  The stern looking woman comes in the room carrying a bag.  “Good Morning.”

The woman smiles, “You seem in high spirits this morning.  Sleeping and eating well?”

“Better than I have in days.  There’s still some nausea, but all in all it’s a good morning.”  Shea nudges Cullen.

“Ah right.  I’d better go prepare the horses.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”  He smiles over his shoulder as he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all enjoying this! It's turning into one big fluff fest lol!
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	5. Mama

They ride up to a massive, gated estate on the outside of town.  They are filthy from travelling and taking care of some rifts on the road to Ghislain.  Shea is the first one off her horse after they pass through the gates.  She desperately needs to use the facilities.  Vivienne is standing at the top of the grand front staircase the leads up the front door.  Shea is actually pleased to see her.

“Vivienne!  How are you?”

“I’m well, darling.  Eventful trip up I take it?”

“No more than usual.  I’m just a little rusty when it comes to dealing with rifts and demons.”

“Come on in.  I’ll show you to where you’re staying.  Then I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“Is this where Bastien’s family lives?”

Vivienne smiles, “Indeed.”  She motions for her to follow.  “His family was all too happy to offer it to the Inquisition.  They are at the Val Royeaux estate, so we have the place to ourselves.”  Shea follows behind Vivienne and is lead to a guest suite that rivals some the ones she saw inside the royal wing of the Winter Palace.  “I’ll have your things brought up.  We’ll have dinner once everyone has had a chance to freshen up.  Is there anything you are craving?”

She chuckles, “I have a list of things that make me sick.  It’s in my bag.”

“I’ll retrieve it from the Commander then.  Help yourself to things items in the wardrobe.  I’m sure they will be much more comfortable in your current state than your armor.”

“Thank you.”  Vivienne nods and leaves the room closing the door behind her.  Shea darts into the bathroom and closes the door.

***

Shea is unable to sleep that night.  She sits up in bed reading her book with a single dimly glowing orb hovering above the page.  It had taken her while to figure how to make it float there and she practiced in the bathroom so she didn’t wake her sleeping Commander.  She is reading their book the proper way as Cullen would describe it.  She looks over at him.  He is hugging the pillow she placed in his arms so her absence wouldn’t wake him as it so often did.  His messy curls are hanging in his face.  She touches one of them before returning her attention to the book.

She can’t really focus on it.  She is nervous.  This talk is going to be painful and awkward.  She hasn’t seen her mother since the day she left for the conclave.  She doesn’t even know if her mother or her grandparents, whom she barely remembers and are probably ancient by now, would even let her in the house.  Her family was not warned that she would be stopping by, hoping that a surprise visit the Inquisitor, Hero of Thedas, and Herald of Andraste would be enough motivation for them to at least open the door.  Cullen is sure that it will be enough that their kin is there.  She tried to tell him he didn’t understand her family, but he wouldn’t have it.

She looks over at his sleeping face.  So peaceful.  His mouth hanging open and little snores escaping his parted lips.  She is beyond grateful that he is coming with her.  He completely understands why she wants to keep everything involving her personal life secret from them, but if rumors of their involvement have spread then they might not have that choice.  She might be able to deny the pregnancy rumors, but as Leliana said, their relationship is becoming common knowledge.

She sighs looking down at the pages in front of her.  This page has drawings on it.  They depict how big a bump can be expected to be by each month.  She is 11 weeks along now so she compares her own stomach to the one drawn for 3 months since she’s not quite at 4 yet.  She’s a little bigger, which she takes as a good sign.  She places her hand against the bump that as hidden at least half of her abs and curves out more than it had before.  It could be mistaken for her getting fat.  She trails finger along it.

She gasps and her hand stops.  _Did it just move?_   She rubs it again and it flutters under her hand.  She starts hitting Cullen with her book.  “Wake up!”

He inhales sharply and tries to defend her assault.  “Maker!  Why the hell are you hitting me?!”

She grabs his hand and places it on her bump.  “Shea.  I know it’s bigger.”  She moves his hand in a circle.  “I get it.  Please let me…”  The baby moves under his hand.  He quickly sit ups fully.  “Did she just…”  Shea just nods.  He looks into her eyes with his hand still moving across her skin.  Tears are filling her eyes.  “Are you alright, love?”

She sniffles, “Yes.  This hasn’t felt real until right now.  It’s really in there.”

He pulls her face towards him and kisses her.  “Yes, she is.”

She smiles as he stares excitedly into her eyes.  She lays back, “Oh, go on.  I know you want to.”

He adjusts himself and lays his head on her sternum.  He rubs her bump and coos at it.  “Hello.  Feeling the little restless tonight?”  It moves again.  Shea smiles down at this strong, hardened, and serious man cooing at the little person growing inside her.  The motions of her baby aren’t big by any means, but just tiny little flutters.  She can feel them without even touching her belly.  She shifts and settles more into the bed.  She waves her hand and the glowing orb wisps apart.  The room is fully dark now, but she can still the mass of blonde curls resting on her.  She runs her fingers through his hair and he hums.  Her eyes start to close for the first time all night.  Cullen starts humming whatever song it is he likes to hum to the bump.  The soft sound knocks her out.

He looks up at say something to her and smirks.  For the first time, she has fallen asleep on her back.  He lays his head back down and continues to obsess over this new development.  Smiling brightly at the little movements under his fingers.  As he hums to what he assumes is his daughter, he imagines that she’s dancing in there.  He imagines her mother teaching her to dance in the throne room at Skyhold.  Their curls bouncing as they spin around.  His daughter’s curls are blonde like his and her eyes shine like tiny drops of ocean, like her mother.  He falls asleep and his dreams are filled with him dancing with a little girl balancing on his feet.

***

Cullen wakes well before Shea.  He smiles remembering his dreams and rubs his hand on her belly.  Little flutters respond.  He whispers with his lips brushing her stomach, “Good morning, little one.”

Shea groans, “What are you doing to it?”

“Just saying good morning.”

“Well, stop.  It’s… never mind.”  She sits up and pushes off the bed.  She goes into the bathroom and closes the door.  He stretches, feeling more rested and ready for the day.  It is his job to be her rock today.  Moral support and subtle comfort when she needs it.  There is a soft knock at the door and when he opens it there is just a tray with a lid sitting in the floor.  He picks it up and opens it before bringing it into the room.  He smells it.  He doesn’t really know what her triggers are, but if it smells to strongly then he knows it isn’t going to happen.  They are cut up pieces of fruit.  _Those should be fine_.  Some warm bread.  _Also fine._   And large wheels of sizzling sausage. _That’s a not go._   He steps into the hall to eat those himself.  He uses the napkin to wipe up all evidence that they were even there.  He smells the eggs.  _Those should be fine smell wise, but we’ll just have to see._   There’s two cups on the tray.  One with grape juice and some other kind of juice.  He picks it up and sips it.  It is a bit tart.  He isn’t sure if she can handle it.  He puts the lid back over the tray and goes back into the room.  She is back to sitting on the bed and rubbing her eyes.

“I know you just had to pay a visit to the bathroom, but are you hungry?”  She nods and yawns.  He sets the tray on the bed.  “I took the liberty of consuming the smelly items.”

She smiles, “Thank you.  You can have these eggs too if you want.  Just the look of them is upsetting my stomach.”

He points to the glass of mystery juice.  “That’s kind of sour.”  She picks it up and smells it. She takes a tentative sip.  She picks up the grape juice and hands it to him.  “This one’s mine,” hugging the first glass to her chest.

“Works for me.” They eat in silence.  She eats slowly just to make sure everything stays down, so he finishes before she does.  Once she has cleared her plate and downed her drink, Cullen removes the tray and places it out in the hall.  “Are we still favoring armor today?”

“I was thinking formal wear, or my uniform since I brought it, but armor will hide this little one,” she pats her stomach, “from any prying eyes.”

“Armor it is then.”

They dress in silence.  Once fully armored, though she opts to leave her axe and staff behind, she digs in her bag for the family tree.  She sticks it up her sleeve before securing the bracer to her arm.  She looks over at him.  “Don’t forget your hair.”

He reaches up, “Right.” He ducks into the bathroom to wet his locks and slick them back.  She stands next to him trying to decide what to do with hers.  It is long enough now to braid and put up in her old style.  Her mother would appreciate it, even if Shea doesn’t like it.  Cullen watches her as she braids and pins her hair.

She glances at him, “It’s purely strategic.”

“Are you bringing your signet ring?”

“No.  I can’t wear it so why bother.  It’s not like they will ask me to verify who I am.  Even with the scar, I’m sure I’ll be recognized.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.  “I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Unless for some reason they separate us.”

“I won’t let that happen.  I’ll come up with some excuse to stay near you.  It’s procedure or some other official sounding excuse.” She nods.  She turns to the side to examine herself.  The metal of her armor perfectly conceals any evidence of a child.  She sighs and he kisses her forehead.  “You can do this.”

“Only because you’re here.”

“You handled Brandon on your own.  This should be easy in comparison.”

She chuckles, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Do you have a handle on your magic?  I know how jumpy you get when anxious.”

She nods, “It’s locked away.  I’m fully in control of it.  But if there’s battle, though I don’t see why there would be, I’m ready.”

He takes her hand and laces their fingers together.  “Ready to go?”

She inhales deeply and squeezes his hand.  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”  He places his hand on her jaw.  He pulls her in and gives her a long kiss.  He runs his finger down her scar.

“You’ve got this.”

She traces his scar, “I hope you’re right.”

He leads her out of the room and into the hall.  They walk down the hall hand in hand.  Vivienne meets them by the front door.  “Inquisitor.  I have a coach pulled around for you.  There’s an Inquisition scout driving it.  Our banner is hanging from it.  It looks very official.  Though I wish you had opted to wear something a little more… flattering.”

“I’m trying to hide the fact that I’m pregnant.”

“From your mother?  My, my.  That is most interesting.”

“We’ll see you whenever we get back.  I have a feeling we’ll be there most of the day.”

Vivienne nods.  “I’ll try to keep these boys out of trouble.”

They walk out the front door and he helps her into the carriage.  He climbs in behind her and closes the door.  He sits across from her and when the carriage lurches forward, she covers her mouth.  He pulls a piece of ginger root from a pouch on his belt and holds it out to her.  She sticks it in her mouth and chews on it.  She smiles at him.  “You knew about the ginger root thing?”

“I’m reading the book in the right order, love.  It was there in the section about morning sickness.”  She reaches her hand across the coach to him and he moves to sit next to her.  He wraps his arm around her shoulders and she rests her head on him.  “I take it you didn’t sleep well.”  She shakes her head.  “Why not?”

“You know me.  Planning out every way this could go wrong.”

He presses his lips against her temple.  “The worst that can happen today is that we leave with no answers.”

She leans into him.  “You’re probably right.  But why am I more nervous about this that anything I’ve done in the past year?  Hell, I feel more afraid of this than I did facing off against Corypheus.”

He chuckles, “Family will do that.  I’m both nervous and excited for our trip to South Reach.”

“Yeah, but your family doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s true, they don’t.  But that doesn’t mean Mia isn’t going to hit me for being out of contact for so long.  Branson too for that matter.”

She looks up at him.  His golden eyes shimmer hopefully into hers.  She sighs.  “I’m sorry about the book last night.”

He laughs, “It’s a good thing I wasn’t having a nightmare.  That could have ended badly.  In any case, it was worth it.” The coach begins to slow.  Cullen kisses her quickly and moves back to the other side of the carriage.  “Breathe.  Play the Game.  You got this.”

She nods.  She checks herself over making sure everything is perfectly in place.  She then checks him.  She reaches forward and forces a stubborn curl to fall in line with the rest of his hair.  She runs her finger down his scar before leaning back in her seat.  The carriage slows to a stop and the door opens.  Cullen nods to her and then steps out of the carriage.  She takes a deep breath and checks herself on final time.  They have agreed that she won’t accept help out of the carriage as a sign of strength.  Though now she wishes his hand were there for her to squeeze. She steps out of the carriage and takes in the view.

The house is smaller than the villa in Halamshiral, but it is surrounded by a vast garden.  Even in winter, it is a sight to behold.  She can only imagine how colorful and bright it would be in the middle of spring.  A well-dressed butler bows to them.  “Lady Inquisitor and Commander Rutherford.  This is a most pleasant and honored surprise.  Lord and Lady LeClair were not expecting guests, they wish to extend their apologies for the state of their home.”  He motions for them to follow.  “This way please.”

He leads them up the small set of stairs leading to the modest yet ornate front door.  He opens it for them and they step inside.  The foyer is small.  Just enough room to greet guests.  Directly in front of them is a staircase the leads to the second floor.  To their left is a study packed full of books and to their right is a formal sitting room.  The butler leads them to it and offers them a seat.  “Make yourselves comfortable.  I will go and fetch them.”  He bows and exits the room.

Cullen goes to sit but Shea remains standing.  “Not going to sit?”

“I’m too anxious.”  She slowly paces the room, taking it in.  She spots a mirror and checks herself again. 

“Inquisitor, you look fine.”

“I need look more than fine, Commander.”

They hear footsteps approaching and she quickly moves to stand near Cullen.  An elderly couple come into the room.  Their arms linked together.  They aren’t wearing masks so she can see the deep lines in their faces and their matching green eyes.  Both of them have a head full of bright white hair.  The man extends his hand, she hardly recognizes either of them.  She steps forward and gently takes it.  “The Herald of Andraste.  You honor us with your presence.”

“She’s more than that, Jullien.  She is our granddaughter.  All grown up.”  The old woman places her hand on the side of Shea’s face.  “You look just like your father.  Only prettier.  Shame about the scar though.”

Her face reddens, but she smiles in spite of herself.  “I apologize for just popping by like this.  I know it’s not the proper thing to do.”

The old man squeezes her hand.  “Nonsense.  It is nice to get to see my granddaughter one last time.  Shame out your brother, Emeric.  He was a sweet lad.  I hear he died bravely.”

Her chests tightens.  They didn’t know.  The old woman nods, “And Brandon seems to be taking to his new role as Bann very well.  Or at least that is what Donna tells us.  I wish we could see him again.”

The old man lets go of her hand.  “Where are our manners?”  He walks over to Cullen and he stands.  He takes the hand that is offered to him.  “You are the Commander, yes?  We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“Certainly.  People are still buzzing about your trip to the Winter Palace.  Tell me.  Have you accepted any of the offers of marriage people keep throwing your way?”

“No, ser.  I have my eyes set on another.”

“I would expect nothing less from a strapping young man as yourself.”

Shea’s grandmother hooks her arm in Shea’s.  By the way the woman is leaning on her, she can tell that she has trouble walking.  Shea helps her to a couch and then helps her sit.  Her grandfather motions to the couch as he sits next to his wife.  Shea and Cullen sit next to each other.  Her grandmother smiles, “If only he was a good match for you, dear.  You two make an attractive couple.”

“Has Brandon found someone for you, my dear?  I know your father was trying before his tragic death.”

She shakes her head, “Not yet.  I think he is more concerned about finding a match for himself first.”

The old man chuckles, “According to your mother, he has found a more than suitable match.  In line for the Nevarran throne, I hear.”

Shea and Cullen stifle a laugh.  “That should make mother happy.  Speaking of, will she be joining us?”

“Of course.  She’s just trying to look presentable.  She should be down soon.”

The old man leans forward and grabs a small bell of the table in front of them.  The butler enters and bows, “Ser?”

“Bring our guests some tea.”

“Yes, ser.” He bows and exits.

“So, Shea.  Is it alright if we call you by your given name?”

She smiles, “Of course.  You’re family.”

The couple beams at her.  “What brings you to this part of the world?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard that there are fade rifts in the area.  That’s what brings us out this far.  I thought it would be nice to pay you and mother a visit since we were in the neighborhood.”

“Fade rifts?  Out here?”

Cullen sits forward.  “You are in no danger here in Ghislain.  We’ve already taken care of all the ones even remotely close to here.  The Inquisitor insisted on it, in fact.  Nothing is more important to her than family.”

She smirks.  He is slowly becoming a master of the Game.  She almost believes what he said, but she doesn’t matter.  What matters is that her grandparents buy it, hook, line, and sinker.  The butler reenters with a well-dressed elf girl and a cart containing little cakes and things for tea.  She watches the girl pour the hot tea into a cup.  Warm foods and drinks almost never stay down.  Maybe if she magically cools it and then let no one see that she had done so, then she would be able to keep up appearances.  The butler turns his attention to her. “Inquisitor, how do you take your tea?”

Cullen answers for her out of habit, “Two sugars and a splash of cream.”

“Commander, I wasn’t aware you knew how I liked my tea.”

He smirks at her, “It is part of my job to know, Inquisitor.”

Her grandmother claps her hands, “Oh!  It’s so nice to see that chivalry hasn’t died after all.”

She gets handed the cup and then she sets it on the table.  The butler gets Cullen’s order and makes the tea he is so used to making for his patrons.  Shea makes eye contact with him and then darts her eyes at the elderly couple.  He sets his cup down and leans forward.  “So, Lord LeClair…”

“Jullien.  Please.”

“Jullien, out of curiousity, how did the Trevelyans and LeClairs come to know each other?”

His distraction worked perfectly.  “Well, I met Lord Trevelyan, Shea’s father, at a gathering in Val Royeaux.  He was a young man but already running his house, at least the money side of things, before he even became Bann.  I didn’t think much of him at the time,” Shea sticks her cold finger in her cup and chills the liquid.  “But my daughter saw something in the man that we didn’t. Isn’t that right, Robin?”

The old woman nods, “He was an attractive fellow and cunning.  But she saw more than just what he offered on the service side.  She always said that it was his drive and ambition that drew her to him.  Ostwick prospered under his father’s rule thanks to him.”  Shea picks up the cup and takes a sip.  She sighs quietly when it doesn’t make her want to hurl.

“The way I heard it, they were smitten from the start.”

“Oh they were!  They fit well together.  My dear girl was just as ambitious as he was.  She wanted to turn our humble family business into a booming one.  And she did.  A fourth of the money your parents brought in was hers.”

Shea sets her cup down and sits back on the couch, “I wasn’t aware mother had her own business.”

Her grandfather laughs, “It was our business, dear girl.  She just ran it for us until she moved to Ostwick.”

Cullen sits back and grazes the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.  “What was the business?”

A voice sounds from the stairs behind them, “I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

Shea sits up straighter than she was before.  Her back not touching the couch and her head sitting squarely on her shoulders.  Her whole body has tensed up.  He secretly touches her hand and he turns to the voice.  A thin woman, wearing an elaborate dress made of ruffles and satin, comes floating into the room.  Her hair is hidden by some sort of bonnet.  He stands as Josephine had always told him to when the master of the house entered the room.  By her look and her tone, it is clear that moving back into her parent’s home was more of a takeover than a return.  He bows his head slightly to her with one hand behind his back.  He offers her his head.  His heart pounding away.  She places in her hand in his and he bows, presses it to his forehead, again as Josephine had instructed.  “It was not my intention to pry, my lady.”  He straightens and looks her in the eye.  Her eyes are squinted at him in what looked to be distaste, but he can still see the piercing green color under her lashes.  “Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Forces of the…”

She pulls her hand away, “Yes, I know who you are.  Clearly.”  Shea bites the inside of her mouth until she tastes blood.  She has work to do and he can defend himself.  She rises off the couch and tries to soften her features.

“Mother, he is trying to be polite.”

“He smells like a dog and you allowed him to sit on my couch.”

Cullen’s hand ball into fists behind his back.  Shea moves to stand beside him, “For an Orlesian, you are horrible at the Game, Mother.  If only Empress Celene could hear the way you just spoke to the man who protected her at the Winter Palace.  Tsk tsk tsk.”

Cullen holds back his smirk.  A smile tugs at the corner of her mother’s lips, she holds out her arms, “Well, done, my dear.  I was wondering if living among zealots and heathens had undone all my training.  Now, come give your mother a hug.”

Cullen lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.  Her mother was testing her by insulting him.  But Shea is an expert and handled the situation perfectly.  Shea steps in her mother’s arms.  The hug is more for appearances.  At least that’s what it looks like.  How could a woman this cold have raised someone as kind hearted as Shea?

They separate and Shea heads back for her seat.  Brushing her fingers against his as she passes.  In that small touch, he can feel the tremble in her body.  She may look calm, but inside she is freaking out.  Her mother turns back to him.  “My apologies for the insult, Ser Rutherford.”

“None taken.  Believe it or not, I have heard worse.”

“During your templar days I imagine.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She motions for him to sit.  He resumes his spot next to Shea and she moves a throw pillow from behind her back.  She sets it between them and they weave their fingers together under it.  Her mother sits in a high back chair near Shea.  “Your brother has informed me, that you have rejected his offers for suitors.”

“He hasn’t sent me any names, but I am in no position to marry anyone at this time.”

She shakes her head, “You would think you would jump at the chance to solidify your stake to the line.  That is why you killed your brother isn’t it?”

The comment takes her aback.  “Excuse me?”

“Emeric. He was in your way, so you killed him.  I don’t blame you, my dear girl.  Sometimes the Game is played that way.”

He squeezes her hand.  She takes breath.  “Mother.  I have no interest in becoming Bann.  I never have.  I knew where my place was.  So, that is not why Emeric was executed.  He was a maleficar, a bastard, and an attempted assassin.  Not just of his own half-sister, but of the Commander as well.”

“I was not aware formal charges had been filed against him.  Where was his trail?”

Cullen answers for her, “Haven.  He confessed to his crimes as well as his parentage before attempting to murder me.  It was my duty as the highest ranking member of the Inquisition in the room to declare him guilty by way of confession.  Your daughter, the Herald of Andraste, struck the blow, but only to save the life of her commanding officer.”

Shea admires his ability to spin that in a way that made him look like the responsible party.  Though in truth it was all on her.  She didn’t lead the Inquisition then and it takes that single statement to realize that she may have over stepping back them.  Her mother rubs her chin, “I wasn’t aware of that.”

Shea clears her throat quietly, “I sent word to Ostwick detailing to Brandon what had happened since he was acting Bann at the time, which also included Emeric’s ring.  Maybe he was trying to spare you the details.”

“I find it hard to believe that you found any proof that Emeric was illegitimate.”

Shea tilts her head to the side, “Really?”

Her mother glances over to her parents who are listening intently.  “Mother, Father, could you give us the room?  I need to talk with my daughter.  _Alone_.”  Her gaze shifts to Cullen.  Her dagger like eyes boring into him.  The air in the room is electric. 

“Of course, dear.  We’ll turn in for our afternoon nap.”  The elderly couple start to leave.  Then they stop, “Shea, dear.  Will you stay for dinner?”  Shea smiles at them and nods.  She has no intention of staying, but she can’t bring herself to reject them.  Her mother has not looked away from Cullen once.  He rubs his neck and looks at Shea.

“I did say alone, my dear.”  She squeezes his hand like he’s going to disappear.

“With all due respect, ma’am.  We are talking about a case that I investigated.  The Inquisitor may not be able to answer all of your questions.”

She straightens in her chair.  “Ser Rutherford.  This is a _family_ matter.  I would much prefer it stay that way.”

Shea can’t take it anymore.  She pulls hand from his.  Then pulls off the glove of her left hand and slams it on the table.  The slapping noise makes her mother’s eyes snap to her.  “He is family.”  She holds out her left hand and her engagement rings glitters.

Her mother grabs her hand and roughly pulls it forward.  “Does your brother know about this?”

Shea looks back at Cullen.  She suddenly can’t remember if she told him or not.  So he answers the question, “Yes.  He knows.  I asked for his blessing before asking her.”

“What?  Really?”

He smirks at her, “Of course I did.  I asked him before he left Halamshiral.”

She places her right hand over her heart.  “Cullen…”

Her mother tugs on her hand to get her attention.  “Isn’t he a commoner?”

Shea smiles at her, “And Fereldan.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised really.  You have always been rebellious.”  She releases Shea’s hand.  “Your father is spinning in his grave.”

“I believe he was cremated.”

“This is not a time for jokes, young lady.”

Shea moves closer to Cullen.  He wraps his arm low around her back, bringing his hand to rest on her hip.  Her mother scoffs at the gesture.  “Next you’re going to tell me that the rumors that you are carrying his bastard are true.”

“Not yet, but one day.”

She turns her gaze back to Cullen, “What are your intentions then?  Are looking to gain a title for yourself?  Usurp her brother and claim Ostwick for yourself?”

He sighs, “That is the furthest thing from my mind.  I have no desire to…”

“Come now.  You can’t honestly think I would believe that.”

Shea is tired of this interaction.  “Mother.  That may have been your goal when you married Father, but that is not his goal or mine.  In fact, Cullen’s forces have been helping keep Brandon safe.”

Her expression softens.  “Safe?  What do you mean safe?”

Shea sighs, “What do you know of Father’s death?”

“He was murdered.”

“Those murderers are after every Trevelyan with a claim to Ostwick.  So, the Inquisition has offered its services to him to help make sure he lives.  We are working to find out who is behind it.”

Her mother rubs her hands together, “Then it seems I owe you another apology.”

Cullen nods, “It’s quite alright.”  Shea looks over at him.  He is far too nice to this woman who has insulted him with every second breath.  He could she in her eyes that she is having to fight from blowing up at her mother.  He needs to change the subject and now.  “So, Lady Trevelyan, how has moving back to Ghislain been for you?”

“It’s been hard trying to get the business back up and running after being absent for so long and fashions change as quickly as the wind here.”

“What is you do?”

“I design accessories.  Masks, hats, shoes, handbags, etc.  And… since you seem to be destined to be my future son-in-law… you may address me as Donna.”

Shea’s brain clicks something she had heard ages ago.  “Why have I never made the connection before?  I have heard Josephine and Dorian chattering about the designer Donna Clara coming out of retirement.  That’s you isn’t it?”

Her mother smiles and nods.  “Indeed.  My designs have always been more popular further north.”

She breathing becomes short as many puzzle pieces start to drift together in her mind.  “Does that include the Imperium?”

“Why yes.  They just love the gloves I make.”

“Did you know that we have distant relatives in Tevinter?”

“I was not aware of that.”

“House Pavus of Qarinus.”

“Interesting.”

“How did you sell in Tevinter?”

“Letters and shipments mostly.  Though I did host a party for them in Ostwick once.”

“Was this woman Emeric’s mother?”

The color drains from her mother’s face.  “How did you…”

“Emeric told me.  Her name was…”

Cullen catches on to her string of questions.  “Emelia?”

She nods.  “Yes.  She was Emeric’s mother.”  Shea pulls the family tree from her sleeve and smooths it out on the table.  Her mother’s heart sinks.  She knows where this is going now and she doesn’t like it.  “I think I should go lie down.”

She points at Emeric’s name.  “So his birthdate was falsified.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She pulls a fan from her sleeve and unfolds it.  She fans herself.  “I would rather not discuss this.  Your father’s infidelity is not something I like to think about.”

Shea moves her finger to her mother’s name.  “Why does this same you have blonde hair?  And why does it say Father had auburn hair?”

Donna sighs.  She removes the bonnet from her head revealing perfect quaffed blonde bun.  “Because I do.”

Shea slumps back against the couch.  “How… why…?”

She doesn’t answer.  The question Shea wants to ask more than anything bubbles in her throat.  But she can’t bring herself to ask it.  Cullen takes her hand and motions to the family tree.  “And your husband?  His hair was really auburn?”  She nods.  “Any particular reason for hiding that?”

“It started with Emeric.  He had his mother’s hair.  So, I used by skills to create wigs for the both of us.  So that Emeric resembled his father and Brandon resembled me.”

Shea shakes her head, “How did no one know about that?”

“Your father was an… intimidating man.  No one dared question the change.  And eventually it was forgotten.”

Shea could tell that this is well-crafted story and not the whole truth by watching her mother’s facial expressions.  “This feels very rehearsed.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“I recall quite clearly how you taught me how to braid my hair.  If your hair was a wig, then it was a very good one.”

“You always were too smart for your own good.  Why not just leave this alone?  What does it matter what color our hair was?  Emeric is dead and who knows where his mother is.”

Cullen nods to her.  There is no easy way to ask.  “Are you really my mother?”

“Of course I am!”

“Please don’t lie to me.  Something has happened to me fairly recently and… I need to know.”

“This is ridiculous!  I will not stand for this in my own…”

Shea summons a balls of light in her hand.  Her mother gasps and sits as far back in her chair as she can.  Shea makes the ball wisp away.  “As you can see, I am a mage now.  I was not like this when I left home.  I was not like this until… I defeated the greatest threat Thedas has ever known.  There is only one way it could have happened, though I can’t get into specifics.”

“How?”

She takes a deep breath and sighs, “The only way it could happen is if I am elf-blooded.”

Silence falls over the room as they wait for her mother to respond.  After a while her mother wipes a tear from her cheek and finally says, “You have to understand.  It was not our choice to… have you that way.  You see there were… complications with Brandon.  We… almost died very early on.  Emelia came at my insistence to try to save us.  Your father fell for her.  I was not too upset about it as I knew there was nothing she could do to affect my role in your father’s life.  His wife and mother to his legitimate heir.  She wanted nothing to do with the child after he was born.  She helped us fake the rapidness of our child rearing and magically altered our appearance so that he would look like us.  After she left, we were happy.  The four of us.  But your father wanted another child.  Someone he could raise to carry on the family traditions.”  She sighs and Cullen holds out a handkerchief for her.  She takes it and dabs her eyes.  “We learned after several failed attempts that whatever had tried to take me and Brandon to the Maker’s side had damage me in such a way that… I could no longer have children.”

Shea is stunned into silence.  Cullen shakes his head, “That must have been hard.”

“It was.  My use to your father had quickly evaporated.  But there is no such thing as ending a marriage in the Free Marches and especially not among the Trevelyans.  Most devout families feel the same way about the subject.  He felt trapped and betrayed.  Not by me.  He had grown to love me and I him.  So, he tried everything to reverse the damage that had been done.  When it was determined that nothing could be done, we gave up.”

“Then how did Shea come along?”

Her mother can’t make eye contact with Shea anymore.  She twists Cullen’s handkerchief in her hands.  “I’m not completely clear on the details of how it happened, but one night, an elven girl came to Ostwick with a brand new baby in her arms.  You.  She claimed that the child was your father’s.  He didn’t ask questions.  He would never answer my questions either.  But he knew without a doubt that her claims were true.  You looked just like him, but he would never tell me who the elf was, only that he had meet her on a business trip to Ferelden.”

Cullen inhales, “Her mother was Ferelden?”

“Dalish.”

Cullen rubs Shea’s back.  “Do you know where in Ferelden he travelled?”

“He mostly stuck to major cities.  He kept very detailed accounts.  I’m sure if you were to dig through his manifests, you’d be able to figure it out.”

Shea leans forward and places her head in her hands.  It is at least better than the story her brain had kicked up, but there are still so many unanswered questions.  “Why did you treat like you did?”

“Distant?  Cold?”

“Yes.”

“Your father cherished you just as much as he cherished his secrets.  I never felt like your mother until the day I had to watch you leave.”

Shea sniffles into her hands, “So, you hated me for 20 years, because he kept my origins a secret?”

“I am ashamed to say yes.  You had him wrapped around your little finger from the moment the elf walked through the door.  He loved you more than the rest of us.  Even his first born.  I heard him whispering to you one night when you were still in diapers that he wished you had been first and that you were is favorite.”

“He never acted like it.”

“That’s the Trevelyan way, my dear.  He would never have said that to you if you had been older.  Emotions are for private moments.  And since your father kept things from everyone, his private moments were for himself only.”

Shea stands slowly, “Could you point me in the direction of the bathroom?”

Her mother leans forward and rings the bell. The butler enters the room, “Yes, ma’am?”

“Could you show the Inquisitor to the facilities?”  He bows and motions for Shea to fallow him.  The two of them leave the room.

Cullen moves closer to Donna.  “I’m sorry that this is causing you pain.”

She looks up at him.  Kindness and concern radiating from him.  “I could have gone my whole life without telling this secret.  I never imagined her even coming to visit much less with that one piece of evidence we couldn’t change.  The children were easy to fake.  Give the scribe the wrong information when he came to record it.  Hers is mostly right.  Her mother knew the exact date.  She was only a few days old when she came to us.  It was all too easy to claim that my gown for the evening hid my pregnancy.  We were fortunate that I turned in early that night.  We used that to build the story of her birth.  Though I imagine it was much different than that.”

He nods.  “I’ve heard that some Dalish clans are so against humans that they become quite angry should one their own decide even associate with humans much less lay with them.”

“I have a hard time being sympathetic to their plight.  She could have kept her and our life would have been far less… dramatic.  Having Shea and Emeric in our house constantly reminded me that her father was never faithful.  I would have understood had our marriage stayed one of a financial or power gain.  But we learned to love each other in our way.  Knowing that I wasn’t enough for him every day… well, I wasn’t the doting mother I was to Brandon.”

“Do you regret that?”

“Honestly?  No.  I can see now that I should.  But I think many things would be different now if I had been the mother to her that I was to Brandon.  She is a strong woman because she wasn’t coddled by me.  She would not have signed on to be a templar.  If I had been that mother to her, she’d be in some Chantry right now, far away from the dangers of the world.  And then where would we be?  I can’t take full credit for her strength, but I do take some.”

Cullen shakes his head.  He still can’t see how this woman could have raised someone like Shea.  Even what he is hearing about her father makes him question how she came to be the way she is.  “I think you’re wrong.”

“Pardon?”

“I think you are wrong.  Her life has never been easy.  This whole experience for her has been trying and painful.  She has fought her way through hell and back without the support of the people who are supposed to love her unconditionally.  Love her just for being.  I… I just can’t see how this environment she was brought up in lent itself to creating this beautiful, deeply caring, strong, brave, and selfless woman.  Everything I’m hearing, everything I’ve learned, or witnessed with my own eyes about the Trevelyan family since joining the Inquisition makes her existence seem impossible.  How can someone so… delightful come from a viper’s nest?”

“I beg your pardon!”

He puts up his hand, “No.  I’ve held my tongue for far too long.  She might be angry with me later for saying all this, but I used to respect your family.  When I was a templar, I’d hear stories about the Trevelyans and how dedicated they were to the Maker, Andraste, and the Chantry.  Your house seemed to have faith and charity flowing through its veins.  I met Hayden in Kirkwall, when I was Knight-Commander, and I will admit to being a little star struck by him.  The loyalty he had of his men and the reputation he had made for himself.  And then, after the conclave, I watched every member of her family turn on her.  Templars, distant relatives, and even her own flesh and blood.  And yes, I realize that you are not technically her blood, but you did play your roll in her life.  You were supposed to be her mother.  But you treated her like garbage.”  He stands and looks down at her.  “In her greatest hour of need, your husband turned his back on her.  Her kin within the templars spat on her.  Her half-brother tried to kill her.  And the other, though he is trying now, has left emotional scars on her that will never heal.  Only now, after she risked her life to save this world, do her relatives in the Chantry support her.  How blind are you that you can’t see that, despite trying to be her own person, she needed her family?  Needed the support of those who knew her before she was a prisoner, before she was named Herald, then Inquisitor?  On top of all that, every notion she had about who and what her family was has been slowly ripped from her.  She has nothing left of her old life.  You have all made sure of that.  Do any of you care?  Because to me it seems you don’t.  Not even Brandon.  He hasn’t expressed concern for her.  He is just worried about getting what he wants and carrying on the line.  Continuing your pointless traditions of holding in your emotions to avoid showing any weakness.  You will never know the woman she has become.  Not truly.  You’ve heard stories of the Inquisitor, charging into danger, but you don’t know her.  And I pity you for it.”

Donna stands.  “I think you should go.”

“I think you’re right.”  He turns and sees Shea leaning against the door frame.  She smiles at him.  “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.  Let’s go.”

Donna comes around the couch, “Shea, darling, I wasn’t suggesting that you had to leave.  But no one talks to me like that in my home and gets to stay.”

Shea steps around Cullen.  She grabs her papers and glove off the table.  “I think I do.  Because what people don’t seem to get is that I love this man with every fiber of my being.  And I will go where ever he goes.  Even if that means living on a farm in the middle of Ferelden.”  She shoves the paper in her pocket, and loosens her bracer to put her glove back on.  “Everything he just said to you are things that I am too much of a coward to say.  Have you and Brandon not wondered why I have yet to return to Ostwick?”  She tightens the straps on her bracer.

“He has.  It’s not really my business.”

“Because it was never my home.  I didn’t know that before I left, but I have since learned what a real home feels like.  And that is with this man.”  She looks over at him and he laces his fingers in hers.  “No matter where we are, we are home as long as we are together.”

Her mother crosses her arms over her chest.  “If you tell your brother about your birth, you will be leaving him to fend for himself.”

“He has managed so far without me.  But I have no intentions of telling him.  Let him cling to the lie.  I won’t leave him stranded and alone like I was.  If something happens, the people of Ostwick deserve to be ruled by someone who will do things differently.  Who will actually care about them.  It’s not something I want, but I am not one to shy away from duty and this is my duty as a sister.”  Shea doesn’t wait for her mother to respond.  She turns with Cullen and they head for the door.  She stops with her hand on the knob, “Please tell Grandpa Jullien and Grandma Robin goodbye for me.  I don’t want to wake them.”  She turns the knob and pulls the door open.  Cullen closes it behind them as they head down the stairs.  They climb into the carriage and they slump against the seat as it leaves.  “Well, that was a disaster.”

“We got the information we needed.  Well… some of it.  We know that you are in fact elf-blooded.  It solidifies Moira’s theory a bit.”

“Yeah, but my whole life has been a lie.”

Cullen pulls her closer to him.  “Try not to dwell on that.  They don’t deserve you.”

She looks up at him, “But you do.”

“Sometimes I doubt that, but today… I finally feel like I do.”

She reaches up and rests her hand on his jaw, her thumb caressing his scar.  “You know… there are moments when I think, ‘how could I possibly love him more than I already do?’  And then I heard that speech.  Everything you’ve been trying to hold in so that you could… be there for me… let me… figure this out on my own.  Because it’s my life, my family, my decision on how to proceed.  Every word from your mouth was strong and purposeful.  You let the floodgates open and you let it out.  It makes me proud and happy and… so many other things.  Every time I learn something about you, I fall deeper in love with you.  And… I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this way but I…”  His lips crash down on hers, cutting off her words. Their lips more together.  She tries to push him away.  He stops kissing her for just a moment.  “Cullen.  I just threw up back there.  You can’t possibly…”

“I don’t care.  But I need to kiss you.  I _need_ it.  I need _you_.”  His lips capture hers again.  Her arms move to weave into his hair pulling herself closer and deeper into their kiss.  They are so wrapped up in their make out session that they don’t notice that the carriage has stopped.  When the driver opens the door, Shea is straddling him.  Their lips and tongues moving with such intensity that it would make Andraste herself blush.  It makes the man extremely uncomfortable.  He quickly shuts the door to leave let them do whatever it is they plan on doing.

They stay in this embrace for a long while.  They lips are swollen and sore, but it doesn’t stop them.  A loud knock on the carriage door finally breaks the spell they have on each other.  The door flies open and they both snap their heads in that direction.  Dorian chuckles, “You have a room you know.”

She starts to slide out his lap and he holds her there.  He looks over at Dorian.  “We’re going to need a minute.”

“Don’t be late for dinner.  We all want to hear how it went.  And you know how Vivienne feels about punctuality.”  He closes the door.  She looks down at him.  His lips are bright red and his eyes shine at her like molten steel.

“He’s right you know.”

“About which part?”

“All of it.”

He groans.  “Well, I have a bit of a problem.”  He takes her hand and places it on his fully erect cock.

“Hmm… that is a problem.  What ever shall we do about that?”  She stokes him through his pants.  He leans his head back and moans.  She presses her lips against his throat.  “Your armor doesn’t provide the best access.”

He moans as she massages him.  He bites his lip and closes his eyes.  She smiles against his neck, feeling him pulse against her hand.  “Maker.  I…”

“Shh.  Just let go.”

“I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

She breathes against his neck.  “Yeah?  What would you do to me?”

“I’d… taste every inch of your skin.  Licking the sweat from you as you moan.”  She strokes him a little faster.  He curses his armor for trapping him.

She licks up his neck.  “What else would you do?”

“I’d tease your tender breasts.  Causing just a little bit of pain, because I know you like that.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d worship them.  Caressing, licking, sucking on your glorious nipples.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’d… oh Maker…”  He wraps his arms around her waist.  He can feel the heat coming from between her legs even though her armor.  “I would make you scream my name while I tasted the sweet juices dripping from your tight cunt.”

She moans into his throat.  “Would you want me to use my magic on you?”  Before he can answer, he feels her magic pulsing through her hand on into his shaft.  He moans loudly at the sensation.  His hands move down to grip her ass.  “You like that, sweetheart?”

“Oh… yes…”

She kisses her neck, nipping at his heated skin.  “What else do you like?”

“I like the feel of my cock filling you.  The feel of you squeezing around me when I make you come.”  She smiles against his neck.  “The sounds you make when I hit just the right spot.”

“Yeah.  Tell me more.”

“I… love the way you…”  His breath hitches in his throat.  “The way you… oh shit… make it impossible for me to think.”

“Where do you fantasize about doing these things to me?”

He moans and gasps for air.  “The war room… with… the door… unlocked.  Our balcony… the… oh Shea…”

“Are you going to come for me?”  She kisses up the side of his face.  “Come for me, Cullen.”  He moans.  “I know you want to.”  He leans his head forward and she captures his mouth.  Her hot tongue exploring the inside of his mouth.  She squeezes him and his body stutters.  His hands grip her ass tightly and his body tenses.  He moans loudly into her mouth.  She works his shaft as he rides out his orgasm.  She smiles down at him when he finally opens his eyes.  “Feeling better?”

He chuckles, “Yes, but also worse.”

“How so?”

He runs his hand down the cleft of her ass and presses his palm against her heat.  She inhales sharply.  “Because I know that I’ve done this to you and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

She wipes the sweat from his face.  “We can try.”

“But the book…”

“Who cares about the book?  I want you.  Yes, we’ll need to be careful.  But Maker, Cullen if you don’t fuck me tonight I might go crazy.”

He kisses her.  “Then we’ll try.  But if you get sick or I hurt you…”

“I know.” She climbs off his lap and stands up.  “Once you’ve collected yourself, we’ve got dinner to get to.  I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”  He laughs and stands up off the seat.  He opens the door and the cool winter breeze helps cool him off and clear his head.  He steps out and offers her his hand.  She takes it and they head inside to join their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Shea ever be done with family drama? Also, thoughts on Cullen's speech? It's pretty swoon worthy to me lol
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	6. Thunderstuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some damsels shouldn't be underestimated

Shea sits next to the campfire as the sun starts to set.  They have opted to take the long way around.  She wanted to try the fast way, but as soon as the ship started pulling away from the dock, no amount of ginger or whatever is in that cloth could settle her stomach.  She is a little disappointed.  It is going to take almost a month to get back at this rate.  With the travel itself and the closing of rifts along the way, they are going to miss his birthday.  So, she sits there writing a letter to Josephine to cancel the plans she made.

As she writes, she starts thinking of ways to celebrate in the field.  There is only one gift she can think to give him that is readily available, but it would also be a gift to herself.  It is only an option though if the morning sickness will just go away.  She hopes that will be soon.  She feels constantly horny and can do nothing about it.  When they tried in Ghislain, she nearly threw up all over him before they could even get started.  She pleasured him like she had in the carriage, but she was left wanting.

She folds her letter and summons Sky.  She gives the bird her letter and tells her the destination.  Then she flies off.  She pulls of a slip of paper from a pouch on her belt and counts the tick marks on her makeshift calendar.  She is way more aware of the date than she has been her whole life.  Keeping track of when his birthday is and to figure out exactly how far along she is.  She sees him approaching her.  She holds up the paper and sticks the paper back in its spot.

He stops in front of her to help her off the ground.  She takes his hands and he pulls.  “Ready to free yourself?”

She chuckles, “Yes.  Who knew armor could be this constricting?”

“How much long do you think you can comfortably wear it?”

“Not long.  A few more weeks tops.  Definitely before we make it to Skyhold.”

He parts the flap in the tent for her and she ducks through.  “So, what does that mean exactly?”

She chuckles, “That means I have a small window of time before everything I brought with me, besides the clothes I stole from you, stop fitting.”  She sits on the cot.  “This is getting ridiculous.  My breast band is already far too tight.  My feet are swollen and my boots barely fit.  And if I hadn’t had Dagna modify my armor it would already be too tight.”

He kneels in front of her and unlaces her boots.  He has to struggle, but when they finally come off she lets out a loud exhale.  He chuckles, “When was the last time you took a break from your armor?”

“That last night at Ghislain.  It’s been a few days.”

He continues removing her armor for her.  “You probably won’t like this suggestion, but why not travel in your uniform or something more casual?  Just take a little break from being so constricted.”

“That’s not the safest idea.”

He pulls her up off the cot.  He catches her as her aching feet protest her weight.  “You alright?”

“Yeah.  Just my feet are killing me.  Go change, I’m good.”  He backs away from her slowly.  When she stands on her own, he turns to change out of his armor.  She pulls his shirt from her bag and removes the rest of her armor.  She feels a bit sluggish and light headed as she bends to remove her pants.  She straightens and quickly unlaces the breast band.  She takes her first real deep breath in a long while.  “I need to purchase a new one of these at the next village.  It’s making it hard to breathe.”

He turns to her as he pulls his comfortable pants on.  “Then I’m insisting on an armor break.  The closest rift is at Lake Celestine.  That gives you a nice long break and we can stop in…”  He pulls a map from his bag, “Val Foret to get what you need.”

She pulls his shirt over her head.  “Ugh fine.  But if we’re attacked on the road by bandits or something I will be completely useless.”

He smirks at her and picks up her discarded armor pieces.  “It still feels strange to say this, but you could use your magic more.  You’ll want to avoid being hit, yes, but you can still fight.”

She nods.  “Honestly, I think once I’ve out grown everything, I might switch to being a full-time mage.  At least until after...”

“That might be the smart thing to do.”  He walks up at her and wraps his arms around her waist.  She slides her hands up his arms.  “We’ll figure this out.”

She rests her forehead on his chest.  “If we want to do everything we want to do before the baby comes or I’m too fat to travel, we’ll need to make the stop at Skyhold a very short one.  I’m talking arrive, restock, and go.”

He smells her hair.  He notices she hasn’t touched in since the business with her mother.  He starts removing the pins from her hair.  She chuckles, “What are you doing?”

“What does it feel like I’m doing?”

The short braid falls free and he starts to unbraid it.  She shakes her head.  “Do you like my hair longer?”

“Yes.  But if you want to…”

She looks up at him as he runs his fingers through her wavy tresses.  “That’s what I thought.  I’ve been growing it out of you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.  I want to.”  She shifts on her feet and rubs her neck.

“Sit down.”  She sits on the cot.  He sits on the ground and massages her swollen feet.  She moans and lays back.  His strong hands and fingers work her sore and tired muscles.  Kneading and pressing into the bottoms of her feet. She moans again.  He chuckles, “Is this turning you on?”

“Yes.”

He thinks for a moment.  He stops massaging her and reaches into her bag.  He pulls out the book and flips through the pages.  She sits up and watches him study something on the page.  He smirks and snaps the book closed.  He casts it aside and grabs her foot again.  She slumps back on the cot as he continues to rub her feet.  He starts at her toes and slowly works up to her knee, then switches legs to do the same thing.  She is lost in the pleasure his touch is providing her.  Before she even knows what’s happening, his hands are gripping her panties and pulling them down.

“Cullen.”

“Shh. Just trust me.”

He casts her underwear aside.  He brushes his lips up her inner thigh.  Heat floods her system, collecting at the crux between her legs.  She presses his hands into her hips.  It weirds her out for a moment when the baby moves, but his tongue sliding between her delicate folds instantly make her forget about it.  She moans loudly.  She hasn’t been touched in so long.  Her body writhes and she grabs as his hands.  “Oh Cullen.   Yeah.”

His movements are slowly building her desire for him.  She drips down his chin with arousal.  He sucks, teases, licks, and nips at her skin.  Devouring her, savoring her.  Her legs squeeze his head as her body tenses.  Her breath gets stuck in her throat.  He doesn’t stop his attention to her velvety folds and her pulsing nub.  Another wave rushes right behind the other and she gasps for air.  She grabs fistfuls of his hair.  Holding onto him for dear life as her gasps and moans will the air.

He aches for her.  To make love to this beautiful creature.  And from what he just read, he knows he can.  He slides a hand down from its place on her hip.  He slides a single finger inside her and gently massages her passage.  His mouth never moving from her clit.  She grinds against his hand and face.  Another finger joins the one already in motion.  A loud moan escapes her.  She has another large orgasm not long after.  He moves up her body.  She shifts up the cot giving him room to kneel between her legs.  He looks into her eyes.  “How are you feeling?”

She reaches for his face and he lowers himself down, hovering above her.  She kisses him and wraps her legs around him.  He smirks against her lips.  He reaches between them and grips himself.  He runs the tip of his throbbing cock between her folds.  She shifts her hips to get closer to him.  He slowly slides his length inside her.  She breathes his name against his mouth.  He moves his hips sliding himself in and out as smoothly as he can. 

She tries to pull him move on top of her.  He lowers his body slightly, careful not to put too much of his weight on her.  She craves more of him.  She moves her hips up, forcing him deeper.  He slowly picks up speed.  He looks down at her large beasts as they bounce beneath the shirt.  He supports himself with one hand on the cot by her head and caress her chest though the shirt.  He gently pinches her hardened peaks.  She cries out and her walls close around him.  Though she is riding out orgasm after orgasm, she still wants more.  He is making love to her and she craves his animal side.  She rakes her nails across his back and he bucks driving himself almost fully into her depths.  She can feel his hesitation.

“I’m not made of glass.”

He moans as he builds in intensity.  He kisses her, “I know, love.”

“Then fuck me.”

He chuckles.  “I don’t want to…”

She groans.  “Cullen, if I can fight, I can fuck.”

He drives in himself in hard.  She cries out and grips him tighter.  He test the waters with a few more hard thrusts and when she doesn’t respond with pain, he fucks her in earnest.  He still doesn’t go completely into her full depth.  Even if fucking her doesn’t hurt her, he will not be responsible for hurting their child.  She doesn’t seem to notice.  Her moans and cries are constant as he slams into her.  Her walls pulsing and tightening around him.

The motion coursing through her body starts to make her feel a little nauseous.  But she fights it.  She can puke after he finishes.  His breathing starts becoming swallow.   She wraps herself more tightly around him.  His thrusting becomes labored and his muscle tenses under her hands.  He moans and drives himself all the way in.  He comes hard, filling her with his seed.  His pleasure sends her over the edge and she cries out as he does.  He doesn’t let himself collapse on her like he normally does. 

Her hands press against his chest.  He removes his subsiding erection from her and sits back.  She rolls off the cot and rushes from the tent.  He hears her vomit in the bushes.  He shakes his head.  The cold night air blows in and sends a chill up his spine.  He pulls his pants back on and lays down on his side.  He covers himself with the blanket.  She comes back in and picks up the water skin.   She steps back out again.  He hears her gargle and spit, before she comes back in.  She secures the tent flap to block the wind.  She takes a few drinks of water and finds one of her juice cubes to pop into her mouth.

He lifts the covers for her and she settles on it with her back to him.  He covers her with the blanket and them wraps his arms around her.  He nuzzles her sweat covered neck.  “Still sick I see.”

She nods.  “It was fine until we went faster.”

He nods, “That’s what the book warned about.”

She laughs, “Is that what you looked up earlier?”

“You have only been sick once today, which is a good sign.  It said the first time we try, you needed to be super relaxed.”

She smiles, “That I was.”

He moves his hand to rest on the bump.  This is their way of sleeping now that it was starting to become uncomfortable for her to sleep on her stomach.  He kisses her neck.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“Alright.”

“You let me know when the morning sickness is gone once and for all, then we can all the sex you want.”

She laughs, “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Me?  You’re the one who has been throwing yourself at me.”

“True.  I’m just so… horny.”

He smirks, “Are you satisfied now?”

“For the time being.”

He snuggles into the nape for neck and inhales her pleasing scent.  Sweat, sex, and her natural scent.  She falls asleep in his arms and he follows right behind her.

***

_Inquisitor,_

_Read this in private.  It’s in regards to your plans for the Commander._

_Alone?  Good.  I have an idea of how you can still surprise him.  Can you get to Montsimmard by his birthday?  If you can, I can arrange for your plans to take place there.  I have it all planned out, I just need a few days’ notice to set it in motion._

_~Josie_

***

_Shea,_

_I made it Ostwick a while ago.  My apologies for not writing sooner.  I know things are…complicated between you and your brother… but I could really use your assistance.  And after seeing that rift in Kirkwall, I think it needs to be a priority.  The sooner, the better._

_I must keep this short.  Hope everything is well._

_Cassandra_

***

_Inquisitor Trevelyan,_

_This is an official request from King Alistair of Ferelden.  He requires you to come to Denerim to address some concerns of The Bannorn, as well as further outlying areas of Ferelden, regarding the actions of your mages as well as your troops.  The King understands that your time is both previous and limited, but would greatly urge you to come to court to put these complaints to rest._

_Sincerely,_

_Jefferson, Official Scribe to the Ferelden Royal Family_

***

_Inquisitor,_

_I have taken it upon myself to inform Bann Trevelyan about your parentage in an attempt to protect Ostwick from your grasping fingers.  Any appearance of you or your Inquisition in Ostwick will be taken as a show of force and will be met appropriately._

_You have been officially disown and removed from the line of succession.  I hope you are happy._

_Sincerely,_

_Lady Donna LeClair Trevelyan_

***

_Dear Sister,_

_Half-sister?  Whatever.  Please disregard Mother.  I don’t care about how you came to be, just that you are.  Ostwick still stands with the Inquisition and I still stand with you.  I am not making your birth public.  What does it matter?  What matters to me is that… if I do as Mother demands… Cassandra will leave.  Your forces will leave.  I will be alone and still a target to unknown assailants.  No matter where you came from, you are and will always be my sister._

_How’s the fiancé?  Thanks for telling me you said yes, by the way.  Note the sarcasm.  And rumor has it I will be an uncle soon.  When were you going to tell me that?  I should also say that mother doesn’t know about that.  I take it that was on purpose.  I don’t blame you, of course.  I remember how she treated you._

_Cassandra wants me to reiterate that we could use your assistance on something she won’t tell me about.  I’m assuming I’m being kept in the dark for my own protection._

_Be safe.  I love you._

_Sincerely,_

_Brandon_

***

Shea sits in a tavern in Val Foret reading her letters.  Most of them are personal, which is a nice surprise.  The town is buzzing with activity in preparations for First Day festivities.  Some of the parties have already started and the sun hasn’t even started to set yet.  It’s hard for her to focus in the noisy tavern, but when her boys raised up in mutiny when she tried to fight without armor, even with being at a distance using magic, she was benched.  She insisted that she was just taking a break from the armor, but they wouldn’t hear it.  Not even Cole, who could see in her head that her armor still fit.

So, she sits wearing her casual clothes.  Black boots, leggings, and asymmetrical skirt, a white off the shoulder shirt, and a blue vest.  Without a breast band to secure her, her tits are pressed together and peeking out through the top of the vest and shirt.  She loved the look Cullen gave her when she put it on.  Burying his face in them before he dropped her off at the tavern.  With nothing else to do, she reads and rereads her letters.  It worries her that Alistair sent an official letter to get her to come to Denerim.  What has happened since their last correspondence to make him make such a move?  What had her people done that was making the Fereldan nobles nervous?

A man approaches her and bows low.  His accent thick and Orlesian.  “Pardon me.  But what is a beautiful creature like you doing all alone in a place like this?”  His voice just drips with his flirtation.

She rolls her eyes, “I am not alone.  I am waiting for my fiancé to return.”

“And yet here you sit, by yourself.  Such a delicate beautiful woman.  If you were mine, I’d never leave you alone.”

She looks up from her letters to take a look at this masked man.  He obviously has no idea who she s.  Which is a novel thing these days.  Who didn’t know who the Herald of Andraste was?  She places her left hand on the table.  Her ring glitters in the light.  She sees him see it.  Then she reaches for her glass, her green palm shining in his direction. 

He bows to her again, “Maker!  You are the Inquisitor?!  I had heard tales of you and your beauty.  I must say, these tales do not do you justice.  Allow me to buy you a drink to apologize for not recognizing you sooner.”

“You really don’t have to…”

He claps his hands together and an annoyed looking barmaid comes over.  “Bring the Inquisitor a glass of the finest wine you have.”  She turns and leaves before Shea can protest.

“That really isn’t necessary, ser.”

“I insist.”

She wants to get up and go somewhere else but she promised Cullen she wouldn’t move from this spot.  The man is still chattering his flatteries at her, no matter how many times she tells him she is engaged.  The wine appears on her table and he motions for her to drink.  She groans to herself.  She doesn’t want to be rude to this man, whomever he is.  She folds up her letters and places them in a pocket on the inside of her cloak.  Maybe if she holds her breath, she can get a sip down.  She picks up the glass and he smiles brightly at her.  He raises his own glass.  She smiles politely and holds her breath before bringing the cup to her lips.  She feels no sign that the wine will be making a return trip.   She allows herself to breath in its scent and still nothing.  She almost leaps out of her seat with joy.  She takes a few big swigs before setting the wine down.  She smiles at the man, “Thank you for the…”

She feels her magic flow out of her.  All of it.  Even the mark is quiet.  She coughs and pushes back from the table.  A single letter falls from her cloak.  She reaches for her staff.  It is not where she left it.  She looks over at the man.  He twirls it in his hand.  The smile on his face sending anger pulsing through her.  She growls at him.  “Ah ah ah.”  An arm circles around her from behind, pressing a dagger against her throat.  She can feel the pain from her magic loss starting to creep up on her.  She has a very small window to fight back before the withdrawals kick in.  She can easily best this person behind her as well the one holding her staff.  But the man behind her feels her shift in preparation to attack.  The dagger shifts to press against her stomach.  The will to fight leaves her.

The man in front of her steps closer.  His mouth curved into a sickening smile.  “We have waited a long time for this.  Come quietly and no harm will come to your child.”  She nods.  She is led from the tavern and the three of them disappear into the crowd.

***

Cullen, Bull, Dorian, and Cole enter the tavern.  It is dark out and the party is raging through the town.  They head right for the table they left her.  Some people are sitting there.  Cullen’s heart rate spikes.  “Excuse me?”  They look over at him.  “I’m looking for my fiancé.  She was sitting her earlier.”

“She have auburn hair?”

“Yes.”

“We saw her leave with some men a few hours ago.”

His heart sinks.  “Did you see where they went?”

“No, ser.  But she dropped this.”  The man hands him the letter.

“Thank you.”

Cullen walks out of the tavern with the others right behind him.  He unfolds the letter.  It is the one from the Fereldan Scribe.  The royal seal is stamped on the top of it.  “Why would she drop this?  It’s official.”

Dorian pats his back.  “We’ll find her.”

There are so many people around.  “Someone must have seen her.  Fan out.”  They all split up, searching the crowd in different directions.  Every person he talks to says they haven’t seen her.  He rushes around town looking everywhere he can.  He is frantic.  His mind isn’t working very well.  Cole appears beside him.  “Did you find anything?”

“Yes.”  He holds out a letter.  This one from her brother.  “It was at the south entrance to the city.”  The paper looks heavily trampled.

“She dropped this some time ago.  Go get Bull and Dorian.  I’ll meet you by the south entrance with the horses. With luck and speed we might be able to catch her.”

Cole runs off and Cullen runs to the stables behind the inn.

***

Shea is sitting unbound in a small boat.  She is in so much pain she can barely sit up straight.  “Please, just give me a little bit of my magic back,” she begs.

The masked man laughs in her face.  “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”

“You said if I went along peacefully that… you wouldn’t hurt my child.  Well, _this_ is hurting my child.”

He looks at the man holding the dagger, who is still behind her.  Some silent conversation happens.  “Fine.  Hold out your hand.”  She holds up her left hand.  He eyes her mark.  “The other one.”  She lowers her left hand and raises her right.  The man holding the dagger grabs her wrist and slices open her palm.  She hisses, but it is nothing compared to the pain of not having her magic.  The masked man holds a vial below the cut to catch the stream of blood.  Once it’s full, he fills another one.  He fills 5 vials total.  He hands her a dirty looking cloth to wrap around her hand.  She opts against that and just closes her fist.

He puts a stopper in each vial and hands them all to the man behind her.  She hears him mummer something.  One of the vials gets passed back to the man in front of her.  The blood inside glows brightly.  Her eyes widen to keep the tears from spilling from them.  Her heart feels like it has disappeared from her chest.  “Do you know what this is?”

“Yes.”

“And we made 5.  So even if you do decide to break one, we have others.”  He pulls of vial of clear liquid from his jacket.  “Drink this.  But know if you try anything…”  He wiggles her phylactery in front of her face.  She nods and takes the vial.  She pulls the cork.  It has no smell.  She closes her eyes, hoping that all this won’t cause problems later, and downs the contents.  It has no taste but as soon as it hits her stomach, her magic roars back to life.  She gasps and leans forward in relief.  The pain and heat coursing through her is instantly gone.  The man behind her grabs a fist full of her hair and yanks her back to a sitting position.  She snarls at the pain, but doesn’t lash out.

The first thing she does is try to cast a protection spell, but finds that she can’t.  She looks the man in the eye and smirks.  “Didn’t think I’d trust you that much did you?  I bet you thought I’d give you back your magic and then you could attack me.  Tsk tsk tsk.”

“That wasn’t my plan.  My intention was to make sure my baby was ok and then heal my hand.  I fully understand the… terms of this… capture.  And I have no intention of doing anything that would…”

“Sure.  That’s what they all say.”

“Have I resisted thus far?  Not to make matters worse for myself, but this should display some level of trust at the very least.  The Anchor… the mark on my hand is not connected to my magic.  I had it long before I became a mage.  I have yet to use that against you because I am aware of the cost I would pay if I did.”

He looks down at her hand.  “Prove it.”

“Excuse me?”

“My friend behind you is currently in control of your magic.  If you think that thing will work.  Prove it.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Remember the cost.”  The dagger presses against her again.  She sighs.  How fucking stupid can he be?  It’s the dead of night, they are in the middle of a river, and she can still see the city.  By now, she is certain Cullen has found her clues.  And this idiot is asking her to use the most identifiable thing about her.  She sets the mark off and opens the type of rift that would suck demons in.  It lights up the area around them.  She lowers her hand and watches the rift swirl and spark.  “Turn it off!”

“I can’t.  It has to go away its own.  Give it a few seconds.”  It fades away and he glares at her.  “I did ask if you were sure.”

“I didn’t know it was that bright!”

“Oh.  Well, at this point, I figured it was common knowledge.  That is my primary job after all.  Killing demons and closing rifts.”

He sighs.  “Let her heal herself.  She’s bleeding all over.”  She feels whatever leash is holding her release.  She casts the spell to protect her baby and then heals her hand.  The magic leash snaps back into place as soon as she’s done.

She shifts to get more comfortable.  She notices as she glances around that there is another man in the boat, rowing.  Her staff is right next to him.  She returns her gaze to the masked man.  “So.  Since we seem to have come to some semblance of an understanding, I wonder if I might inquire as to where we’re going?  Or if you don’t feel comfortable answering that, then maybe you could tell me who hired you?”  The man behind her pulls her hair.  She hisses, “Is that really necessary?”

The masked man makes eye contact with the man behind her and then shakes his head.  He shoves against her head as he lets go of her hair.  Her instincts kick in and prevent her from falling off the boat.  She curses herself.  That would have been a fantastic opportunity to escape.  Then she remembers the 5 phylacteries and that she would never be able to escape unless all 5 are destroyed.  Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the masked man ogle her chest as she is leaning forward to prevent herself from falling in.  There is something about the look that makes her very afraid.

She readjusts herself and settles back onto the seat.  She watches the city become further and further away.  She is going to have no make a move at some point.  The first being to kill the obvious templar behind her and smashing those vials before they get separated.  Yet she is outnumbered and completely unarmed.  No weapons and no magic.  She looks up at the moon rising overheard.  The shadow of a raven passes overheard.  She mentally smiles as she catches the faint glow coming from its eyes.

***

She is taken to a secluded camp deep in the forest.  It is situated where two rivers meet.  One of them leads to the Waking Sea to the northeast.  She has been tied to a tree.  The templar is not far from her.  She has counted the men and observed their supplies.  No horses or tents.  Just bedrolls and bags.  Which means if she could get word to Cullen then he would be able to catch up with ease.  Her attention is more closely paid to the man that holds 4 of her phylacteries.  This templar who never lifts his visor has yet to hand them over to anyone.  A rustling in the trees lets her know that her feathered companion has settled down above her.

“Excuse me?”  His helmed head turns in her direction.  “Am I allowed to sleep?”

He shrugs and looks away from her.  She wonders if this leash will prevent her from going into the Fade.  She gets an idea that she isn’t sure will work.  _Alright, Shea.  Make Bull proud._   She forces the mark to flare.  She screams out and balls her hand into a fist.

“What’s happening?”

She tries to sound as pathetic and helpless as possible, “It’s… nothing.  It’s just something that happens from time to time.”

“Well, make it stop.”

She whimpers as the green light brightens the whole camp.  “I wish I could.  But I can’t control it sometimes.”

The templar gets up and storms off to find someone.  She looks up at the tree and sees Sky on the Branch above her.  _Perfect_.  She lets out another scream of pain.  The masked man and the templar come over to her.  “My friend says you’re trying to use that on him.”

She gasps and whimpers, “I would never.  These flares happen when there’s a rift nearby.”

They look at each other.  “A rift?  Like those holes that spit out demons?”

She nods.  She manages to get tears to fall from her eyes.  “It should stop soon.  At least I hope it does.”

“Well, stop screaming.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose.  Can’t you see I’m in pain?”  She hangs her head forward and gasps for air.  She whimpers in pain and watches them out of the corner of her eye.

“Is there anything you can do about it?”

“If… if I had my magic… I could freeze my arm.  It wouldn’t turn the light off but I could got back to being quiet.  But I will also need my hands.”

His eyes narrow.  “How long do you need your magic for?”

“Just until it stops.  I swear.”

The masked man crosses his arms.  She bites her lip to help stifle another scream.  The anchor sparking and glowing brightly.  “Ugh.  Fine.  Do as she asks, but no funny business or else.”

“I swear.”

She knows that she can keep the anchor going long enough to enter the fade.  She only needs a few second to deliver her instructions to Sky.  The templar unties her and she instantly presses her right hand on her forearm.  She makes her skin appear frosty, but in reality she casts a spell to knock her out.  She’s been trying to become a Dreamer.  She thinks it would be useful.  She has never actually tried this spell and hopes if she messes it up, that the templar standing next to her will bring her out of it when he takes her magic away.  The second she removes her hand, she faints.

Her eyes fly open.  _Yes!_ “Sky!  We don’t have much time!”  The bird comes flying out of the sky.  She hopes the light from her mark disguised the bird’s entrance.  “In the bag of the man in armor is a vial of red liquid.”  She kneels down and draws it with her finger in the fade dirt.  “I need you to steal it and take it to Cullen.  Please don’t get caught and hur…”

Her eyes open again.  She is soaked with cold water and her magic is gone.  The anchor is still glowing.  “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

She hisses and closes her left hand into a fist.  She clutches it to her chest.  “You took my magic away?”

“We thought it made you pass out and you’re no good to us dead.  At least not right now.”

She whimpers as the light shines from her hand.  “But the pain…”

“Tough.  Tie her back up.”  She looks up at the tree and sees the tiny rift forming.  She opens her hand to brighten the area to hide Sky’s return.

“Close you hand, bitch.  You’re blinding me.”

She whimpers, “I’m so sorry.”

She allows herself to be tied back up.  The masked man walks away leaving the templar to do his work. Sky glides to the ground.  Shea slowly drags herself back to the tree as the templar stands over her.  Sky hops up on his open bag.  Shea’s eyes scan the area making sure one of the other men don’t spot the bird.  This guy must be really dumb.  Sky dips her head into the bag.  She hops a bit more and then flies off.  Shea sees the glowing vial in her talons as she takes to the sky.  The templar ties her securely to the tree and returns to his spot by the fire.  Shea rests her head on the tree trunk.  It’ll be bad news if he notices it missing.  She smiles as she watches him close the bag up tight and rest his back on the tree behind him.

***

The group of men push their horses as fast as they will go alongside the river.  Looking for any sign of her.  Cole stops his horses and jumps off, causing the others to stop as well.  “What is it?”

“She sent a message.”

Cullen jumps of his horse.  “What?”

Cole holds out his hand and Sky drops the vial in it before landing on his arm.  Cole turns to Cullen.  “Sky knows where the camp is.  We can follow her.  Shea sent this.”

Cullen looks into Cole’s hand and snatches up the vial.  “Those bastards!”

Dorian joins them, “What’s going on?”

Cole scratches Sky’s head.  “Shea got a message to us through Sky.  And she knows where they’ve set up camp.”

“That’s great!  At least she’s alive.”

Cullen is about crush the vial in his hand.  Cole shouts, “No don’t!”

“Why not?!  They made a phylactery using her blood!  Why shouldn’t I smash it?!”

Dorian chuckles, “It’s been far too long since you’ve been a templar.  How long do you think they will be staying at this camp?  Stop stomping around like an angry druffalo and think.  Why would she send a phylactery to you?”

He groans, “If I was still a templar, I could track her.  But I’m not.  There’s not enough Lyrium in my blood to activate it.  And no, I’m not taking more.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that, but surely we can reach out our allies.  Or maybe some of your troops.”

Cullen paces turning the vial in his hand.  The desire to smash it on the ground is strong, but Dorian is right.  She sent it to them to use.  “Maybe we won’t need to use it.  Maybe we can catch them before they get too far ahead.”  He puts the phylactery in his pocket and gets back on his horse.  “Cole.  Keep track of that bird.  We’re going to follow her to Shea.”  They spur their horses and Cole sends Sky into the air.  They follow her along the river.

***

Shea watches the templar sleep beside her.  Somehow her magic is still bound.  The fire has died down some but men patrol the camp.  She is freezing from the water being dumped on her and the cold winter air is turning it to ice.  A shout rings out, “Everyone up!  Time to move!”

She groans.  The templar stirs.  She closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep when the masked man approaches.  The man wakes the templar.  “Time to hand those out.  You keep one and give the others out.”  _Fuck.  This isn’t good._   She opens her eyes just enough to see through her lashes.  A few men come over and he starts handing them out.  “Actually, the boss wants one for herself.  So, save two of them.”  Without looking into the bag, the templar hands out three of the vials.  “Do you know where to take them?”  The men nod.  “Then get to it.  I have a feeling we’re going to have company soon.  Wake her up and get her on the boat.  Our ship is waiting.”

Someone slaps her and she gasps.  “Wake up.  We’re leaving.”  She gets untied from the tree and then her arms get bound behind her.  They push her forward.  She has to do something.  If she gets on a ship, there is no way they will be able to catch up.

“Is there any way I could go somewhere private to… relieve myself?”

A man shoves her forward, “You can wet yourself for all I care.  We’ve got orders.”

She starts to wonder why she isn’t dead yet.  She’s grateful, of course, but this whole thing seems odd.  Why would anyone want to take her alive?  And why are they slowly escalating their aggressiveness?  She looks behind her and watches the men carrying her phylacteries disappear into the trees.  _Damn it.  I need to get those back.  But how?_ She is shoved forward again.  She sees a small row boat on the shore. The masked man is standing next to it.  “This is where we part ways, Inquisitor.  I have my own orders.  But these fine… gentlemen will be accompanying you on your journey.  Do try to behave.  They aren’t as… patient as I am.”

 _Take out the templar first.  Use magic to catch those men and this guy.  Smash the phylacteries_.  _Run like hell._   Her staff is handed to the man in the boat.  _But how do I do that?_ The magic leash slips for a moment and then quickly returns.  The man in the boat smirks at her.  The masked man hands him the vial.  He sticks it in his jacket pocket.  _Who are these templars?  They aren’t Red Templars.  Just normal ones.  Maybe they are left over from the rebel templars in the Hinterlands?  I just need one tiny opening.  Just one.  But I can’t get on the ship._

The masked man takes the cloak off her shoulders.  Only one letter remains in the pocket, the one from Josephine.  He pulls it out.  “Didn’t you have more of these?”

“No.  Just the one.”

“Hmm… in the tavern I could have sworn I saw a bigger stack.”

“I have no reason to lie.  My position is pretty hopeless at this point.”  He tosses the letter into the fire.

“Yes.  Yes it is.”  He nods to the man behind her and she gets shoved forward.  They lift her into the boat and she sits in front of the one already in it.  She watches as her captors back on land scatter into the trees.  The shoving man pushes the rowboat from the shore and then jumps in.  The man behind her rows.  She closes her eyes trying to fight off the despair threatening to over whelm her.

“What did the boss say about how we were supposed to bring her?”

The man behind her chuckles.  “All she said was that she needed to be in one piece.”

She swallows hard at their tone.  Her mind races.  She was not about to let them do anything like that to her.  The pushy man smiles, “Think the captain will want the first go?”

“You’ll get your chance.  It’s a long way to… where we’re going.”

Her anxiety spikes.  She would rather drown the both of them then let that happen.  _There’s only two of them.  I can take them even without hands.  However, if I play their game, act like the willing participant, they might untie me.  Then I can grab that phylactery and jump._ She opens her eyes and sees the vile look on the pushy one’s face.  She feels like throwing up.  She knows that would be the easiest way out of this, but she just can’t do it.

Shouts are heard from the shore, followed by the sounds of fighting.  She strains her eyes to see in the dark.  “Hoping for a rescue?”  He runs his finger across her exposed collar bone.  “We’ll be long gone by the time they reach us.”  He sticks his finger in her cleavage.  She squeezes her eyes and legs closed.  She is tired of the damsel in distress routine.  Someone is fighting her captors at that camp and she is not about to let herself be raped all the way to where ever they are going.  _Play the game.  You can freak out about it later._

She bites her lip.  “Look at this.  Little slut actually wants this.” His hands travels deeper into shirt and he rubs her nipple.

She can’t bring herself to say anything.  She knows her voice would betray her.  She leans into his hand.  He grabs and gropes her chest.  The man behind her laughs, “Hey man.  If she wants it, why wait till we get back to the ship?”

He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her in close.  “Think I should untie her?”

She licks her lips in his face.  “Nah.  Maybe she likes being tied up.”

 _Shit.  I need my fucking hands for this to work._   She looks him up and down.  Then she looks at the other man over her shoulder.  She clears her throat to make sure her voice is strong, “You know.  The current would probably take us all the way out.  Why should only one of you have fun?”

The men look at each other.  “What did you have in mind?”

She smirks.  She feels absolutely disgusting for doing this.  She is going to need a lot of boiling water.  “Well… my fiancé tells me that I give the best hand jobs in Thedas.”

“Is that so?”

She nods and shifts herself so that both men can see her breasts.  “I could… show you… if that’s what you want?”

“We really shouldn’t.”

She bats her eyelashes.  “Who’s going to know?  I won’t tell.”

The man rowing pulls the oars into the boat and then runs his hand up her thigh.  She fights the urge to vomit.  He makes her turn to face him.  He reaches around her to untie her.  His face buried in her cleavage.  She wastes no time.  As soon as her arms are free, she attacks.  She knocks the man on top of her over board.  She spins on the one who shoved her and punches him as hard as she can.  He falls onto his back.  She stands and stomps as hard as she can against his throat.  Killing him.  She feels her magic spring to life, the freezing water breaking his concentration.  She sneers at him and freezes him into an ice cube.  He bobs in the water.  She reaches out and pulls him closer.  He’s still alive, but if she leaves him like that he won’t be for long.  She summons fire in her finger tips.  She melts the ice to get to the jacket pocket he put her phylactery in.  She pulls it out and sticks it in her pocket.  She looks up.  There is still fighting on the shore.  She searches the man in the boat for any information. She finds a few pieces of paper on him and puts them in her pocket.  She rolls him out of the boat.  She sets her staff down and grabs the oars.

Cullen runs his sword into the masked man.  As the man falls, a blast of lighting rushes past his head.  He hears her growl and continue channeling her lightning into someone who is screaming.  He looks over to a see templar in full armor.  She looks a little disheveled, there is ice on her clothes, and a bruise is forming on her cheek, but otherwise she looks fine.  She shocks the templar repeatedly even as he lies dead on the ground.  She finally stops and flicks him off, “Fuck you!”

He smirks slightly.  She charges to his body and picks up the bag at his side.  She dumps the contents on the ground.  He sees her pick up the glowing vial.  “They made more than one?”

Her heart sings at his voice.  She wants nothing more than to jump into his arms and cry.  But she has to find these first.  “ _He_ made 5.”  She pulls one from her pocket.  “I have two.  And I’m assuming you have to other one?”

“Yes.”

“The other two split up.”  She points into the trees.  “That way and that way.”

He walks up to her.  He notices that her breasts are almost completely exposed.  “Shea?  What happened?”

She looks down at herself.  She adjusts her clothes and looks up into his worried eyes.  “Nothing.  But… we’ve got work to do.  I promise we’ll talk about it later.”  She turns for the trees and he grabs her hand.

“Shea.”

She looks back at him.  She can see the fear in his eyes.  She faces him and takes his other hand.  “I’m fine.  We’re fine.  Nothing happened.  You have my word.”

He nods.  They tear off into the trees.  They run into Bull first.  He is pulling his axe out of someone’s back.  Shea flips him over.  “Not him.”

“What are you talking about, Boss?”

Cullen grumbles.  “Those bastards made 5.  We’ve only recovered 3.”

“Maybe Dorian and Cole had some luck.”

They scour the forest and search every body they find.  They find plenty of papers that they can look through.  Just when she is about to give up, she sees Cole drop out of a tree, killing a man below him.  She rushes over to him and sighs.  “That’s one.”  Cole searches the body and finds a piece of paper and the vial.

Cullen shakes his head.  “We’re still missing one.”

She sighs, “We can look all night long, but if we haven’t caught him by now, we probably never will.  What we can do is take the information we’ve gathered to find out who did this.”

“Agreed.”

He takes her hand and they return to the horses.  Cullen turns to Shea as they stand next to his horse.  “Front of back?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do want to control the horse and just hangout behind me?”

“Oh.  Back then.”  He mounts the horse and reaches down to her.  “How do I do this exactly?”

He smiles, “Grab my forearm and put her foot in stirrup. You know the rest.”

She takes hold of his arm and he grabs hers.  He moves his foot and she puts her foot in stirrup.  She swings up behind him and he helps her.  She scoots as close as she can to him and wraps her arms around his waist.  She buries her face in his furry mantle.  He puts his foot back and spurs the horse forward.  They don’t push as hard to get back. The horses are tired and one of them is carrying two.  Cullen places on of his hands over hers and she hugs him as tightly as she can.  “Are you alright, love?”

“I would have fought them if I could have.”

“It’s alright.  You waited for your moment.”

“If I had fought sooner, then I wouldn’t have any phylacteries at all.”

He rubs her arm.  “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“I… we’ll talk about this later.  All I want right now is hot bath or twelve.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

“You should know.  There’s a ship waiting at the mouth of this river on the Waking Sea.  Do we have people in Val Royeaux who can intercept it?”

“We do.  When we get back, you go get your bath and I’ll…”

“You can write the report in the bathroom right?”

He looks at her over his shoulder.  He can’t see her, but he feels her shake.  “I can.  If that’s what you want.  Are you cold?”

“Y-y-yes.”

He stops his horse and removes his cloak.  She wraps it tightly around her and then returns her hold on him.  “How’s your magic holding out?”

“I feel a bit weak.  I’ll explain more later.”

“I have something that belongs to you.”

“I’m hoping you have a few things that belong to me.”  He smiles.  He reaches into his pocket and slides her ring back on her finger.  She smiles and runs her thumb along it before lacing her fingers with his.  “I was really hoping it didn’t fall in.  But I couldn’t get the last letter.  I’m actually surprised no one noticed it was missing.”

The ride in silence to the stables.  The others are waiting for them when they arrive.  She slides of the horse and he follows her.  They turn the horses over.  She takes his hand and hugs his arm.  She looks at the others, “Thank you for coming to get me.  I know I don’t need to thank you, but still.  We’ll go over the information we gathered tomorrow.  I’m… really tired.  So, we’re going to turn in.”

Cullen nods, “I’ll write up the report and send it to Skyhold later.  You boys enjoy the party.”

She and Cullen head for the inn.  Once inside their room, she quickly strips out of her clothes.  She hears him sharply inhale.  “What?”

“You’ve got bruises.”

“I’ll take care of them in the bath.”  She goes into the adjoining bathroom.  She uses her magic to fill the small tub with water and warms it.  He watches the steam roll off the surface.

“Are you trying to boil yourself?”

“Maybe.”

He ducks out to quickly grab paper, a quill, and ink.  He drags the stool at the vanity into the bathroom and sits down.  He starts writing.  “I’m ready to listen when you are ready to talk.”

She scrubs her skin raw.  He watches her with concern and curiousity.  She leans back against the tub wall and looks over at him.  “The ship is somewhere down stream.  I’m not sure how long it’s going to wait there.  But we should probably act fast.  Take them alive if we can.  Find out where they were going to take me.  It is… apparently a long trip.”

He writes quickly and then rolls the paper up.  Shea snaps her wet fingers and Sky comes into the room through the small rift.  Cullen inserts the paper in the tube.  “Take this directly to Divine Victoria.” Sky flies of through her rift.

“Why her?  She has a lot of things going on?”

“She’s still our spymaster and her people can get to that ship faster than any of my men.”

“Alright.”

She pulls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them.   “Do you want me to join you?”

She chuckles, “It’s a little tight for that.”

He steps out of the bathroom and hurriedly strips out of his armor.  He comes back in stark naked and steps into the steaming water.  She swirls her hand under the water and cools it for him.  He settles in and slides his legs on either side of her.  “Come here.”

She shifts forward and he turns her around.  She lays back on his chest and has to curl up her legs to fit.  He envelopes her in his arms.  She lays her head back to rest on his shoulder.  “I was in the tavern, reading my letters…”  She proceeds to tell him every detail of her capture and escape.  The whole time he rubs her arms and runs his fingers through her hair.  She covers her face.  “I still feel so disgusting.”

He kisses her shoulder.  “You did what you had to do to.  Otherwise you’d be on a ship bound for some unknown place being… and our child might have… you did the right thing.  And I know you hated doing it.  I hate that you had to.  But even with your phylactery, I would not have been able to find you.  I can’t use them anymore.”

“Would you have…?”

“I want to say no.  I resisted earlier, but if you had just vanished without a trace… I might have.  And then that vicious circle would continue.  Doing what you did.  Using those men that way, saved both of us from fates we would rather avoid.  Because honestly, my love, I don’t think my body can handling going through withdrawals a third time.”

She sighs.  “Have you ever… done what those templars did?”

He stiffens.  “I don’t… yes.  You were fortunate.  Yes, he used the potion on you, but it is based on a templar ability.  On top of that, they could have… tortured you with your phylactery.”

“Have you ever…?”

He nods.  “I ashamed to say yes.  I wasn’t at the time, but… I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of now.”

“You… tortured mages?”

“I… I… yes.”

She turns in his arms to look at his face.  She can see his shame, his regret.  “How?”

“How?  You want to know how I tortured them?”  She nods.  “Maker’s breath, Shea.  Why are we talking about this?”

“I… need to know.”

“Why?  What reason could you possibly have for wanting to know the… atrocities I’ve committed and how I did them?”

She touches his face.  “I’m sorry.  I just… forget it.  I can see this is hard for you.”

“Hard?  Remembering what others did to me is hard.  Remembering what I did to others because of that… hard just isn’t the right word for it.”

“Jeez, Cullen.  Calm down.  I didn’t mean to dig at… look.  I’m a mage now and I don’t know anything about what a templar is capable of doing to me.  Do I want to find out?  No.  Tonight was fucking terrible for so many reasons and I was trapped.  Utterly powerless.  If you hadn’t arrived at that campsite when you did… Maker I need to stop thinking about this.”  She covers her face.  He places a hand on her back.

“I… I can tell you what can be done, but I won’t tell you if I’ve done them.  I can’t.”

She shakes her head.  “Maybe I should have a mage tell me.”

“Not every mage knows every trick.  I do.”

She drops her hands into the water.  “Cullen.  If you… I don’t… let’s sleep on this.  I’m exhausted and I need to heal myself.  Which is only going to tire me further.  This discussion needs to be had when we’ve really thought about it.”

He nods.  “That I can do.”

She leans over and kisses him.  “I love you.  And thank you for saving me.”

“You saved yourself.”

“Only because I knew I had back up.”

He brushes nose against hers.  “You will always have someone to back you up.”

She smiles and stands.  She steps out the bath and grabs a towel.  He doesn’t move right away.  “Plan on staying in there?”

“I should probably bathe.”

She chuckles.  “Need a warm up?”

“No, it’s fine.  You go ahead and lay down.  I’ll only be a minute.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah.  Just try to stay awake so I can show you where your bruises are.”

She nods and leaves the bathroom.  He bathes himself. The tears he was holding back while she was there fall from his eyes.  They aren’t tears for him.  He’s crying for her.  Having to resort to that just so she could get free.  To escape a destination much worse than being groped and allowing it.  This whole night is far worse because he convinced them to mutiny.  How could he have been so stupid?  Taking her armor from her.  Forcing her to sit out in public instead of their room.  He knows that there are people seeking to wipe every Trevelyan with a claim to Ostwick off the map.  He has let her defeat of Corypheus lull him into a false sense of security.  He was moments away from losing her.  Losing both of them.  And he knows she can’t see him like this.  He can’t let her know that he almost lost his mind watching that boat paddle down the river.  Fighting so hard and coming so close, only to lose her.

She is smart though.  She would have found a way eventually.  Probably use Sky if she could.  But how much of her would have been left if what those men said was true?  He couldn’t imagine her ever being the same after that.  How many men were on that ship?  What would have happened to his daughter?  Would she have survived the torment her mother had to endure and then be born to a broken women in some dank dungeon?  Would she have been murdered because she was also a Trevelyan?  Would they have done it in front of Shea?  One last final blade that would wipe her clean and open her up to being manipulated and brainwashed.  Would they have sent her to back to him?  A broken shell, void of soul, spirit, and child?

He splashes water in his face.  He can’t dwell on that.  It hadn’t happened. And as far as he is concerned it never will.  He knows she’ll be mad, but he disobeyed her.  This is an Inquisition matter.  Not a personal one.  So, when she told him to take the ship with survivors, it was an order from the Inquisitor.  He knows this without a doubt.  Shea would have killed them all.  He watched her cast spell after spell into a dead man.  She used her body to seduce two men to their deaths, when all she really needed to do was escape.  Her request to take prisoners was completely overridden by his hatred.  His anger.  His burning need to kill these people for even attempting to take her from him.  And all of this before he knew what happened.

Was he still that man?  The man he had been after his torture in Ferelden and in Kirkwall too?  The man who took pleasure in torturing those who could not defend themselves, claiming it was his orders?  Meredith encouraged his eerie, but he was still the guilty party.  It took years for him to realize he was wrong, but by then the damage to his soul had been done.  Even without lyrium, did that man still reside in him?  He sinks below the water.  Trying to clean himself of his past yet again.

When he surfaces, she is standing over him.  “Please tell me that I didn’t open up old wounds for you.”

He runs his hands through his hair.  “I…”

“Maker.  I did.  Cullen, I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

She sits on the edge of the tub.  “Yes, I do.  I shouldn’t have asked.  I shouldn’t have put you in the same pain I’m in.  It was… selfish.”

“Wait.  Are you saying you did that on purpose?”

She looks away from him.  “I’m a horrible person.”

He reaches out and takes her hand.  “We’re a pair aren’t we?”

“Why did I do that to you?  What is wrong with me?  How can you sit there and look at me like I’m not scum?”

“Because if you are, then so am I.”

“I’ve never seen that in you.  Even with your fears, you have been nothing but kind and respectful to mages.  After everything you’ve seen, after everything that was done to you, after… everything you did… you still managed to be a good man.  And here I am.  Having some sort of mental breakdown over something that didn’t even happen and bringing you down with me.”

“You can’t bring me down if I already am.”

She sighs, “You are a far better person than me.”

“Only because of you.  You make me better.”  She stands and walks out of the bathroom.  He stands up out of the tub and wraps a towel around himself.  She is putting on clothes when he enters.  “What are you doing?”

“I should go.”

He grabs her.  “No. You belong here.  With me.”

“But I… just purposefully…”

He pulls her into his chest.  “Would it help if I said I forgive you?  Because I do.  Maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I should be furious.  But I’m not.  Not even a little bit.  I’ve been hiding it from you from the start.  If anyone is a horrible person, it’s me.  I… enjoyed doing those things at the time.  It felt justified.  But it wasn’t.  None of it was.”

“But you saw the light eventually.”

“I did.  But that doesn’t mean I forgave myself.”

“Then maybe you should.”

“You don’t know…”

“Cullen.”  She pulls back to look in his face.  “When will you see yourself the way I do?”

“I could say the same to you.”

“I say shit I regret all the fucking time.  Hurtful shit.  Most of it directed at you.  And you don’t deserve that.”

“Shea.  Can we please stop arguing about who is more terrible than the other?   Neither of us will win.”

She sighs, “Why does shit always fall apart right when we’re at the peak of happiness?  Does the Maker not want us to be happy?”

He chuckles, “You’ve become more of believer lately.  What changed?”

“You.”

“The Maker and I aren’t on the best of terms.”

“But you still believe.  You still pray.”

“I do.  Lot of good that’s done.”

She groans.  “I want nothing more than to get out of this funk we’re in.”  She chuckles, “So, there is one good thing to come out of all this kidnapping bullshit.”

He raises his eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I can drink wine.  I was on a boat, twice, and had no motion sickness.”

“That is good news.”

She runs her hand up his wet chest.  “You know what that means.”

“Now?  Really?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that your body can cure me of these thoughts.  They have before and I’m willing to bet they will again.”

He leans down and kisses her.  “As much as I would love to take you up on that, you need to sleep.  You are dead on your feet.  I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m going to have to ask Bull how to hide fatigue.”

He laughs.  “Now take those off on and come to bed with me.”  He dries himself off and drops the towel on the floor.  She watches him walk.  Admiring his flawless form.  She sighs and strips the few items she managed to get on.  He lays on his side and holds the blanket up for her.  She crawls into bed and he pulls her in.  She turns onto her side to face him.  They stare into each other’s eyes.  “I never showed you where your bruises are.”

She yawns.  “We can do it in the morning.”

He smirks.  She realizes the double meaning in her sentence and smirks back at him.  “Sleep well, love.”

“Again I just want…”  His lips silence her. They kiss tenderly for a little while.  When they part, she snuggles under his chin and he caresses her back as she drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who thinks he should have been mad?
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	7. Genie in a Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... shit got weird. It's... uh... I like where this is going, but uh... I hope you guys do too.  
> Please let me know your thoughts on it after reading. You'll know what I'm talking about when you see it.

Getting back to their normal routine, closing rifts and killing demons, is a comfort after her attempted kidnapping.  They couldn’t make heads or tails out of the papers they found, so they have a scout take them to Leliana.  With nothing to do but wait, they continue to travel south, around Lake Celestine, and taking a break in Val Dirmin at the southernmost part of the lake.

Even though it is uncomfortable and makes it hard to breathe, she refuses to wear anything except her armor until they can buy some suitable for a mage.  Shea sits on her horse, the first one ready to leave.  The boys are still doing Maker knows what.  She is actually surprised that Cullen isn’t still glued to her.  She sits there studying her makeshift calendar.  She counts her tick marks and sighs.  They are going to cut it close.  She pulls a slip of paper from her bag.  It already has her message to Josephine written on it.

_Josie,_

_Make it happen.  And let me know what I need to do and where I need to be._

_Shea_

 

She looks around and then snaps her fingers.  Having magic made summoning her spirit bird so much easier.  She thinks that every single time the tiny rift forms and Sky comes flying out of it.  The bird lands on her leg.  She scratches Sky’s head as she always does.  “I never thanked you for helping rescue me did I?  Well, thank you.  You sweet little bird you.”  She slips the paper in the metal tube.  “Take that to Josie please.”  She scratches the bird’s head one last time before she flies off.

“I told you that you spoil that bird.  One day, she is going to refuse to do anything.”

She smiles as he mounts his horse.  “I think she’s so good at her job _because_ I spoil her.”

He laughs.  “If you say so.  Just remind me to keep you away from my mabari while I’m trying to train him or her.”

She gasps and places her hand over her heart, “You aren’t going to let me play with the puppy?”

“It’s a war hound.  Not a puppy.”

“Say that to your kid when they try to ride it like a horse.”

He groans.  “She will be mostly Fereldan.  I would hope respect for mabari would be in her blood.”

“Half Fereldan, quarter Marcher, quarter Dalish.”

“Yes, but a Fereldan Dalish.”

Shea laughs, “Don’t let Moira hear you say that.”

“Have you given anymore thought if you are going to try to track down your birth mother?”

She sticks her calendar in her pocket.  “I don’t know.  I mean this shit just gets more and more complicated.  She hasn’t reached out in 21 years.  I take that to mean that her clan won’t let her or she doesn’t want to.  Either way.  We have a bucket full of other concerns right now.”

“Like?”

“Getting to Montsimmard before this armor becomes too painful to wear.  After last time, I will not be left unprotected again.”

He nods.  “I happen to agree.  Fortunately, it looks like we’ve closed the last rift in this part of Orlais.  Which means less stops and better time.”

“Fingers crossed.”  The other three finally show up.  “It’s about damn time.”

“Impatient?”

“A little, but mostly I’m just ready to get new armor.”

Dorian smirks, “Are you going to let me help you pick out your robes?”

She chuckles, “I’m not dressing like a circle made, Dorian.”

“Well, good.  Because I won’t allow it.”

They start down the road.  Cullen, Bull, and Cole ride up front.  Dorian stays back with Shea.  “I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve talked.”

“And to think we’ve spent every day together for the past month or so.  You never told us what happened with your mother.”

“It was very similar to what happened with your father.”

“Told her off and left?”

“Yep.  That’s a pretty good summary.”

“And did you find out if she is actually your mother?”

“I did.  She isn’t.  Turns out I’m not just elf-blooded.  I’m part Dalish.”

Dorian nods.  “That explains your allure.”

She looks over at him.  “What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to pin down exactly, but there’s always been something about you.  Your appearance mainly.  You just don’t look like any Orlesian or Free Marcher I’ve ever met or seen.  Even your brother is quite plain in comparison.”

She laughs, “It was my understanding you would have bedded Brandon if you could have.”

“I like to have fun, my dear.  I don’t think I would have acted on it.  I might have hurt the ox’s feelings.”

Bull turns to look back, “You know I can hear you right?”

Dorian smirks, “Or course I do, Amatus.  Am I wrong?”  Bull just turns back around.  “That’s his way of saying that I’m right.” 

She slows her horse and he does the same.  She waits for the group to ride out of earshot.  “So… I’ve been meaning to ask.  When he guys fell back in the Frostbacks to talk, something was different when you joined us again.  What happened there?”

“He was curious about my stance on children.  The thought never even occurred to him.  It was never an option for him until he became Tal-Vashoth.  It wasn’t his job under the Qun.  Did you know we’re committed to each other?”

“Like married?”

He laughs, “No.  Neither of us believe in marriage.  For me, it’s only a breeding thing.  He doesn’t understand the concept when just being committed to one another is enough.  But we’re not sleeping around anymore.  Which has surprising cooled off our sex life.  Not that you asked.  But we both feel at this moment that we are right for each other and that until that changes, he is mine and I am his.  He’s actually quite the sap if given the opportunity.”

She chuckles, “Does he bring you flowers?”

“You’re teasing but sometimes.  And not the ones from the garden either.  He has them scent down from either Tevinter or Seheron.  Magic is obviously used to keep them fresh until they get to Skyhold, but it is a very romantic gesture.  Did you know he is teaching himself more Tevene?  He knew some already, naturally, but he can only read it.  And in return I’m learning Qunlat.  Which is very difficult.”

“And the conversation you had?”

“Oh we’re talking about that?”  He sighs.  “Honestly, until very recently I didn’t want children.  The whole fuck you to my father thing.  But after seeing you and Cullen and this glow you have about you.  My stance on children has changed.  The problem we have is we don’t have the parts to make one of our own.  Add to that the distance that will be between us once I return home.  Minrathous is no place for a child with two fathers especially if one of them is Qunari.  But he said we could make it work if we ever decided it was the right move for us.  Though I just can’t see when it would happen.”

Shea looks over at him.  He looks upset by that statement.  Upset that even after all his rebellion and mold breaking, he still can’t have everything that will make him happy.  “Dorian.  I haven’t talked to Cullen about this.  And it’s still very early to make a decision like this, but… should anything happen to us…”  He looks over at her.  “I want you and Bull to raise our child for us.”  The shock on his face is plain as day.  “Furthermore, there are plenty of orphans in Thedas.  The Blight and this war we fought has seen to that.  You don’t need a woman to have a child when there are so many who need good homes.  And sure, maybe that’s not for either of you right now.  But one day, when you’ve fixed what you can in the Imperium or when you allow him to live there with you, as he has said that he would, then you can always adopt.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

She smiles, “The Great Dorian Pavus is speechless?  My, my.  What will people think?”

“Seriously, Shea.  I am honored that you think so highly of us… of me… to trust something… trust the care of your child to me.  I’m not sure if I deserve it.”

“You are my best friend.  And you are family, even if it’s a distant relation.  I can think of no one I’d trust more.”

“You both have siblings.  Would it be more appropriate to…?”

“I trust you.  I haven’t met his family.  And I’m sure they are wonderful people.  But I don’t fully trust my brother.  I’m sure you’ve noticed that.  My family isn’t made up of the best people and, if my experience is any indication, I don’t want my child raised in that… toxic environment.”

“And Tevinter isn’t toxic?”

“You and Bull aren’t toxic. You would be able to shield a child from the bad stuff.  But like I said.  It’s too early to make that decision and he should be involved in making it.  But the two of you are my first choice.”

“I hope nothing happens that would make that necessary.  I would notice if you were gone.”

“I think a great many people would notice at this point.”

“And yet your magic was taken and you were kidnapped in a public place in the middle of First Day celebrations.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is for people to forget who you are with just a change of clothes.”

Dorian chuckles, “Don’t I know it.”  They ride for a bit in silence.  They pick up their speed to catch up with the others when they realize that their conversation has died out.  Bull looks back at him and Dorian smiles.  Reassured, Bull turns back to the front.  Dorian smirks at Shea, “I thought of a name the other day.”

“Oh really?  I wasn’t aware you were involved in this wager.”

“Indeed I am.  I haven’t thought of a male option yet.”

Cullen looks over his shoulder, “Well, you won’t need one because we’re having a girl.”

She shakes her head, “Ignore him.  We don’t know that for sure.”

Dorian smirks.  Cullen groans.  “Well, out with it.”

“I was building up the anticipation, Commander.”

“You know how much he enjoys spectacle, sweetheart.”

Cullen chuckles, “All too well I’m afraid.”

“I may not settle on this one, but I rather like the name Gabriella.  Just say it out loud.  Gabriella Rutherford.”

Shea smiles.  “I like that.”

“Plus there are several adorable nickname options.  Gabi.  Ella.  Brie.  I’m sure you could come up with more.”

Cullen nods, “I also like that.  Though I’m certain she will have whatever name I have chosen for her.”

“So you have one picked out?”

“Possibly.”

She rolls her eyes towards Dorian.  “Then what is it?”

“I’m not saying until I win the bet.”

She whispers, “I bet he doesn’t even have one picked.”

Dorian whispers back, “Do you?”

She shakes her head and whispers, “I’m having a hard time coming up with names.”

He reaches over and pats her arm.  “You’ll think of something.”

They continue down the road, discussing the merits of Gabriella as a name.

***

The trip to Montsimmard is very uneventful.  They make it the day before his birthday.  So, despite being extremely uncomfortable, Shea is in a fantastic mood.  The city is beautiful and mages are everywhere.  There are at least as many mages here as there were in the Inquisition.  Dorian and Shea are super excited to mingle and go shopping for new things.  Cullen insists they get settled in first and then they can go gallivanting.  They get pointed to a small inn by some townsperson.

He secures a couple of rooms for them.  One for him and Shea, then other for Dorian, Bull, and Cole.  He always feels guilty for sticking him with the lovebirds, but coin is low at this stage of their trip since they had to take the long way around.  He definitely seems to be better with money than Shea, who always books the best room when they go anywhere, so this small inn with its small rooms is his way of making up for that.

Everyone rolls their eyes when he hands out the two keys.  “Now, now.  Coin is tight and Shea desperately needs new clothes.”

She shakes her head, “I have my own coin, sweetheart.  Josephine typically settles the bill once she gets it.  The Inquisition has credit everywhere.”

“I don’t operate like that.  I don’t like owing people money.”

She takes his face in her hands.  His serious express makes her laugh.  “Oh alright.  Be grumpy.  But we’re in a new place!  Enjoy yourself for once.”

He smirks, “Run up and change into your comfortable clothes so you and your little mage friend can go shopping.”

“Don’t want to join us?”

He laughs, “Hell no.  I’m probably going to sit in the room and read.”

Bull claps him on the back.  “You could always hang with me and the kid.”

“It will be fun.”  Cole beams at him.

He sighs, “Fine.  You win.”

“Then you change too.  No armor tonight!”

Cullen shakes his head, “No way.  Not after last time.”

She wraps her arms around his waist.  “Look around you, dear.”

His eyes move along the street.  The city buzzes.  Mages are everywhere.  There might be more people here than in Val Royeaux. Which is probably true.  When the Circles dissolved, the rebel mages went to Redcliffe, but where did the loyal mages go to escape the templars dead set on killing them?  There are templar here too.  It dawns on him that Montsimmard might be the only remaining circle.  Probably thanks to Vivienne.  “Think they’ll join the College of Enchanters?”

“Who knows?  It’s up to them.  Reports say that this whole city has decided to keep things the way they are for now.  But that’s not what I’m referring to.  Keep looking.”

It takes him longer than it probably should, which indicates his fatigue.  He sees patrols of Inquisition soldiers walking the streets. As well as some standing near the small inn.  “Who did all this?”

“Me and Josie.  We both agree that you need to relax some.  So, you can go party with Bull and Cole or...”  She turns to one the soldiers.  He walks up and hands her a piece of paper and a book.  She puts the paper in her pocket and turns back to Cullen.  “Or you can go up to our room.  Have a hot bath.  And relax with this.”

He takes the book from her.  “Where did you get this?  I was reading it back in Haven.”

“And couldn’t replace it, right?”

“Right.”

“A little bird told me you were reading it and she checked your shelf and saw it was missing.  So we hunted down a copy.  There you go.”

“Thank you.  Reading does sound nice.”

Bull groans, “Come on!  Come out with us!”

He looks at the book and then at Bull.  “Oh alright.  I’ll go change and meet you back here.”

Shea smiles, either option is fine with her.  She has things to do.  “I’ll come up with you.  Dorian, if I’m not down in a few minutes for have permission to barge in our room.”

“Gladly.”

She takes Cullen’s hand and leads him inside.  The room is nice, but only consists of a bed with the washroom being shared with the rest of the floor.  She quickly removes her armor, sighing in relief as the pressure around her body lifts.  She reaches into his bag and pulls out his black shirt.

“I was planning on wearing that.”

She smirks and slips it over her head.  The laces hang loose down her chest.  “I could wear the cream one, but since I’m not wearing a breast band right now…”  He pulls out the front of the shirt and pears down it.  “And we wouldn’t want anyone else taking in this view.”

He sighs, “Fine.  I’ll wear something else.”

“I’m borrowing a pair of your pants too.”

“Does nothing _you_ own fit?”

“Nope.  I’m officially too fat.”

The playful tone of her voice lets him know she doesn’t really think she’s fat, but he can’t help protesting.  “You aren’t fat.”

She smirks, “Not yet anyway.”

He hands her his sleep pants.  She puts them on and ties them securely to her waist.  She grabs her belt and secures it around the shirt and pants, making sure they don’t fall down.  She pulls her boots on and tucks the end of the long pants in them.  She laces them tightly.  She stands in front of him.  He laces the shirt up to her neck.  She presses up on her toes and kisses him.  She reaches into her bag and grabs a clinking pouch with one hand.  Then as sneaky as she can, she pulls the paper she was handed and puts in her pocket.

“Have you had that this whole time?”

She smirks, “And you said I’m not good with money.”

“Because you use all mine.”

She laughs.  “Don’t keep them waiting too long.  I’ll see you when we get back.”

He pulls her in and kisses her long and hard.  “Be safe.”

“Always.”  She skips out of the room and closes the door behind her.  She goes down to meet Dorian.  He is leaning against the wall across the street.  She walks over to him and he offers her his arm.

He chuckles, “You are swimming in those.”

“Well, they are Cullen’s, obviously.  So, I think you know what our first stop is.”

He nods, “And did you hear from Josie?”

She pulls the letter from her pocket.  “I’m happy Cullen isn’t upset that I ordered his men here behind his back.  Honestly, I ‘m surprised that didn’t throw up a red flag.”

“His relief far outweighed the obviousness of them being here.”

She unfolds the letter as they walk arm in arm down the street.  “Alright, so Josie has arranged for us to meet with a tailor who specializes in what I need.  Since it would be pointless to purchase things that I can’t resize or reuse afterwards.”

“I find that you can never have enough clothing.”

“Yes, but we’re travelling a lot and unless I start going around in a carriage, then I need to be able to pack light still.”

He sighs, “Ah the burdens of limited carrying capacity.”

“Next, we need to go tell this other inn that we will be claiming that room tomorrow.  Then get the rest of his surprises set up.  And Bull thinks he’s capable of distracting him for tonight?”

“Indeed.  Cole is on board too.  He says he has no idea.”

“Good.  I hope it stays that way.  If he’s already complaining about money, then this is sure to set him off.”

“Has he done that before?”

She chuckles, “No.  Guess I’ll have that to look forward to.”  She looks down at that paper in her hand.  “This is it.”

He opens the door for her and they enter the shop. The bell on the door alerts the man behind the podium of their entrance.  His eyes scan Shea first, his lip pulled up in disgust. But his smile brightens when he drinks in Dorian.  So he ignores her and addresses the fashionable mage, “Welcome, Ser!  What can I do for you?”

Shea clears her throat, “ _I_ need to purchase some clothes.  Specifically casual wear, formal attire, and mage armor.”

He scoffs, “I should say so.”

“I believe my ambassador made me an appointment.”  She taps the paper on his podium, the green light shining in front of him.

His whole attitude changes.  “Inquisitor!  I apologize.  Your ambassador said you’d be arriving in armor.”

She pulls the shirt flat over her stomach.  “I out grew it.”

He nods.  “That happens to the best of us.”

She catches his tone.  “Seriously?”  She didn’t realize to most people, her bump just looks like belly fat. 

Dorian puts his hand on her shoulder.  “Easy now.”  He looks at the man, “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh!  Oh.  I… I’m sorry.  I had assumed… there I go sticking my foot in my mouth again.”  He bows again, “Please forgive me, again.”

She waves her hand.  “It’s fine.  Could we get started please?  I have a limited window.”

“Certainly!  Right this way!”  He leads them into the backroom.

***

Cullen sits in the tavern with Bull and Cole.  He is bored out of his mind.  He doesn’t know why he has no interest in the bar scene tonight.  He laughs and jokes with Bull.  Drinking ale after ale.  His mind constantly drifts to other topics.  Finally he realizes what is consuming him.  They have some many things to do and that includes her meeting his family.  Events outside of their personal lives have deemed that the visit to his siblings will have to be the last stop instead of the next stop.  She will no doubt be very pregnant by the time that happens.  He wonders what they will say about meeting her like that.

Bull rolls his eyes, “Where is your head?”

Cole speaks first, “He is worried what his family with think of her.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Cole.  I haven’t seen my siblings since I was 13 years old.  We’ve written over the years.  More accurately, I’ve written Mia, my older sister.  We’ve had some brief contact since joining the Inquisition and I have written her about Shea.  I haven’t teold her we are together.  Mia is smart, she’ll have figured it out.  But not that we’re going to be married or that she is with child.  Or that we’re coming to see them.  I worry that won’t approve.”

“It’s all this bastard talk, isn’t it?”

Cullen nods, “I’d never even thought about that and here we are, almost to the four month mark.”

“Would you feel better if we helped you plan the trip?”

Cullen mulls it over.  “Actually.  Yes.  This is something I would normally do with her, but I’m trying not to add more to her worry about meeting them.  She doesn’t have the best luck with family lately and it’s impacting her nervousness about meeting them.”

Cole offers him another ale, “She thinks they won’t like her.  That she’s not good enough for you.”

“I think you know I feel that way too.  I’m sure they will love her as I do.  And if they don’t, then our familial relationship with remain long distance.”

Cole nods, “You’d give up family, future, fame just to be with her.”

“Yes.”

Bull claps him on the back, “They’ll see that.  I may not know family, but I know people.  Anyone who looks at you can see your connection.  Do you have a map on you or what?”

“It’s in my room.  I could run up to get it.”

Bull nods.  “Make it quick.”  Cullen stands and leaves the tavern.  Bull looks at Cole, “Follow him and makes sure he doesn’t run into Shea.”  Cole nods and silently follows behind him.

***

She stands in the foyer of her last stop for the night.  Her new clothes making her feel pretty as well as comfortable.  She bought a few new outfits from that shop and he had given her a discount for insulting her so many times.  Right now she is wearing one of her casual outfits.  The long cotton dress is a deep plum color.  The hem brushes the tops of her booted feet.  Her new boots are dark gray and have no heel.  The dress laces on the side and can be adjusted as she grows.  She can even wear it when she isn’t pregnant by lacing the sides tightly.  The sleeves go to her wrists and the square neckline is modest and yet reveals most of her shoulders and her collarbones.  She has a thick, dark gray cloak folded over her arm and a pair of dark gray gloves in her hand.   She hadn’t had a hair cut in ages so she allowed Dorian to drag her into a shop to get a trim.  Her clean auburn locks flow in waves until it hits her shoulder blades, braided at the temples and pinned back to keep hair from falling into her face.

She feels like she has been waiting in this foyer for a lone time.  She looks around and doesn’t see anyone she can talk to.  She spots a little bell on a table by the door.  She picks it up and gives it a gentle ring.  She sighs when no one responds right away. She hopes she is in the right place.  This looks more like a home than an inn.   She turns for the door resigned to figure something else out.  “Wait!  Wait!  I’m coming!” Shea turns from the door and watches a short friendly looking woman rushing down the stairs.  Upon closer inspection, this woman is a dwarf.  “Sorry to keep you waiting, my lady.  I was just preparing the grand suite for a guest.”

“That would be me.”

“Oh marvelous!”  The dwarf holds out her hand.  Shea takes it and shakes it.  “It’s an honor to meet you, Inquisitor.  Your ambassador had very specific instructions as to how the room is to be prepared.  I still have more to do, but it’ll be ready for your arrival tomorrow night that I can promise.”

“That’s good to hear.  It’s a very special day and I was wondering if you could add something to your list.”

She smiles, “Certainly.”

“Is there any way you get some petit fours, strawberries, and wine set up in the room?”

“Strawberries are out of season, but I know a merchant in town who might have some.”

She pulls her pouch of coins from a pocket in the dress.  “I would do it myself, but I’m certain I will be missed soon.  How much is the room and how much do you think these treats will be?”

The dwarf rubs her chin.  She names a price and Shea gives her the coin.  “Everything will be ready when you arrive.”  She pulls a key from her pocket.  “Here’s the key to the room.  That way you can head right up when you arrive.”

“Thank you.  Remember I was never here.”

“Right.  That’s what your ambassador said.  I take it your goal is to keep this romantic evening a secret.”

“Indeed.  Am I correct that there is a large bath up there?”

The dwarf nods, “It’s the finest room in Montsimmard.  Every luxury you could possibly need is there.”

Shea smiles, “Thank you again.”

“Enjoy the rest of the night, Inquisitor.”

Shea dips her head to the dwarf and exits out the front door.  Dorian pushes off the wall as she exits.  “Well?”

“Everything will be ready tomorrow.  You remember that plan?”

He nods.  “You just need to find a way to escape him before we can put your plan into action.  This is all terribly romantic.  I’m a bit jealous, if I’m being honest.”

She smirks, “Are you wanting to take my place or his?”

He laughs, “I will leave that up to your imagination.”

“You can give Cole our room once everything is set in motion.  Then you and Bull can have some alone time.”

“That will be much appreciated.  It has been far too long.”

“Think they are still in the tavern?”

“If I know my Amatus, then yes.”

She puts on her gloves and cloak, then hooks her arm in his.  They walk through the slowly darkening streets.  “What did you pick out for him to wear tomorrow?”

He chuckles, “You’ll like it, I promise.  And I think he will too.  It seems like his style.”

“He’s not one for formal clothes.”

“You aren’t wearing something formal tomorrow I hope.  Otherwise, he will appear underdressed.”

She shakes her head, “I only purchased one formal outfit.  It’ll be my uniform.”

“Then everything should be fine.  But let what he’s wearing be a surprise for you.  You’ve worked very hard to get all this set up.”

“Indeed, I have.  It’s been so hard to keep this hidden from him.  Especially when he’s always glued to my side.”

“Are you tiring of your dear fiancé already?”

“Nonsense.  I just wish he wouldn’t treat me like some helpless woman.  He knows I can defend myself.”

“Yes, but you have to admit that you aren’t the warrior you once were.  He’s having to do the job that was once yours.”

She sighs, “I suppose you’re right.  It’s just weird to be at the back now instead of in the thick of it.”

He pats her arm.  “You’ll be back in fighting shape in no time once that little Rutherford is born.”

“Will you be there?”

He thinks about it for a moment and she lets him think as they walk towards the tavern.  “When the baby is born?  I don’t know.  It really depends on what Maevaris’ response is to my last letter.  If she needs me, then I’ll be going back to Tevinter.”

She nods.  “Any idea when you’ll know?”

He shakes his head and then waves his hand in the air.  “I don’t want to think about that just yet.  Let’s first make sure you get to give your templar the best birthday he’s ever had and take the rest as it comes.”

She smiles at him.  “You know I love you, right?”

He chuckles, “Now she tells me.”  He stops walking and makes her face him.  “I’m not saying goodbye just yet.”  He looks around them.  Seeing no one, he grabs her face and kisses her.  She struggles in surprise for a second.  Then she wraps her arms around him, leaning into his kiss.  Their lips move together.  His moustache tickling her upper lip.  His palms press into her back.  He chuckles and pulls away.  “Alright.  Alright.”  He releases his hold on her and clasps his hands behind his back.  “No one needs to know about that.”

She blushes and wipes his spit from her mouth.  “Agreed.”

“Though I would not turn you down if you wanted to do it again.”

She smirks at him, “I’ll keep it in mind. Though I’m sure it would make Cullen furious.”

“I’m sure it would and I rather like my head where it is.”

She has no idea as to why she has the desire to kiss him again.  It’s a feeling she’s been having a lot lately.  Lusting after Cullen with every second breath, barely able to focus on anything more than her desire to strip him down.  She assumes that’s where the compulsion is coming from to kiss the mage again, the same place that this lust in her originates.  She looks at his lips.  They are redder than they normal are.  She chuckles and reaches up to wipe the lipstick from them, forgetting that he had put her through a full-fledged makeover.   He reaches up to fix her lipstick as well.  The feel of his soft fingers makes her want to close the distance between them.  She shakes her head and chuckles.  “We should probably go in.”

He opens the door for her and she steps into the tavern.  They walk through the tables and finds her boys sitting in the back corner.  They are all bent over a map and they look to be using empty tankards as markers.  “What in the world are you doing?”

Cullen turns in his seat.  Seeing her in her new clothes, looking comfortable and beautiful, makes a large smile break across his face.  The worries of her meeting his family melting away.  How could they not like the breathtaking creature in front of him?   Dorian sits in the only other chair at the table.  She looks around for an empty one to pull up to the table.  He smirks at her and pats his lap.  She sits on his leg and her pulls her in.  The ale is strong on his breath and his speech is a little slurred, “We’re trying to plan the trip.  Trying to figure out how long all of this is going to take.”

She runs her gloved hand through his messy hair.  “And the verdict?”

He laughs, “We discovered that this isn’t a good map for estimating travel time.”  He nuzzles her neck as she peers down at the map.  He kisses up the side of her neck and presses his lips behind her ear.  She giggles as his breath tickles her skin.  He runs his nose up and down the side of her neck.  She closes her eyes.  Her kiss with Dorian had turned her on and this is not helping.  She forgot how much he likes to touch her when he’s been drinking.

“So, where are we going first?”

He wraps his arms tighter around her.  Pulling her back firmly into his chest.  He nips at her shoulder, neck, and earlobe.  “Skyhold.”

“And… after that?”

“Kirkwall.  Ostwick.  Denerim.  Across northern Ferelden to close those rifts.  Finally, South Reach.  Then back to Skyhold.”  He nips at her skin between each location.  Her breaths come quicker as he continues to tease her skin.  She licks her lips and leans her head back.   He shifts her so that he can better reach the front of her neck and her collarbone.  She completely forgets that they are in public.  He nips, licks, and kisses along her neck and collarbone.  She moans softly.

Dorian clears his throat.  Cullen smirks against her skin.  She tries to lean forward to break the connection and he holds her in place.  His public display of desire intensifying.  Part of him wants his friends watch her struggle to control herself.  Making the people in the tavern hear her pleas for him to stop because they are in public.  To make her come while everyone watched and maybe have them have no idea what he’s doing to her.  He slides his hand down her side and onto her thigh under the table.  He scoots closer to the table and nods his head towards the map. “What are your thoughts, love?”

Her heart is in her throat.  Her eyes flicker over to Dorian’s smirking face.  Bull seems to be too drunk to notice Cullen’s actions.  She shoots a sympathetic look at Cole who is watching intently.  His fingers work to pull up the front of her skirt.  “Well… I…”  She swallows the lump in her throat.  She can feel her nipples hardening inside her new breast band.  “I think you are absolutely right.  We should head to Kirkwall to…”  His fingers brush her inner thigh.  He can feel the heat radiating from her.  “To close the massive rift that Varric wrote us…”  He moves her legs apart, “about.  It sounds like it’s causing a lot of problems.”

He nods, “Yes.  It seems to have completely shut down the harbor.”  He presses his fingers on the firm nub on the outside of her smalls.  They move in small circles.  She inhales sharply and bites her lip.  She can’t believe that she’s actually letting him do this.  “As you well know, that harbor is vitally important to Kirkwall’s businesses.  There are large rocks falling from the rift.  And I’m sure the city guard has been doing the best they can to keep demons at bay.”  She grips the edge of the table as his touch sends a tremor through her body.  Her eyes meet Dorian’s.  He is smiling from ear to ear and leaning back in his chair.

“And… and there are other… rifts in the Free Marches… too, yes?”

He leans forward to rest his chin of her shoulder.  He whispers in her ear, “Maker, you’re wet.”  She inhales sharply.  “Yes there are, but they will probably have to wait until after the baby is born.  The one in Kirkwall is the only one threatening people.”

He slips his hand into the top of her smalls to get better access.  Dorian crosses his legs as his view switches between her face and the flexing muscles in Cullen’s arm.  “Are there… oh Maker… are there any near Ostwick?”

Her little cry breaks Bull out of whatever is distracting him.  Her face is flush and she is biting her lip.  It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on across the table from him.  Bull chuckles and taps Cole.  “Why don’t you go outside, kid?”

Cole looks at him.  “How will that help?”

Cullen smirks seeing all of their friends watch them.  His fingers aggressively rubbing and stoking her clit.  “And to answer your question, love, I don’t believe any have been spotted, but we can check while we’re there.”  Another depraved thought enters his mind.  She is so close to completion now, but is one really enough?  He kisses her shoulder.

She can’t think.  It’s taking every bit of concentration she has to hold in the sounds trying to erupt from her.  She licks her lips and forces herself to continue the conversation.  “Have we… heard anything… about that… ship?  And… if it’s at all connected to…”  She claps her hand over her mouth muffling her cry as he pushes her over the edge.  Her body trembles as she comes. 

“We aren’t sure if the people who tried to take you are connected to the people trying to kill your brother.”  He shifts her so her legs are even more spread.  Her ass balancing on his lap, his knees hooked behind hers, and his arm are the only things keeping her from slipping into the floor.  He slides his fingers up and down her dripping slit.  She looks at him over her shoulder.  He smirks.  The ale has made him bold and he has absolutely no intention of stopping.  She can feel his hard cock pressing against her ass, but she is so lost in this public scene he has put them in that she can’t even concentrate on it.

“But have we… mmm… have Leliana’s people found it?”  He slides two of his finger inside her and she gasps.  The heel of his hand rubs her clit as the fingers inside her slide in and out.  She leans her head forward to hide her face and grips the table even harder.

“Not that we’ve heard.”

Dorian takes a long draft from his wine.  He fans himself with his hand.  Bull finally stands and drags Cole from the table.  “Come on, kid.  You shouldn’t be watching this.”

Cole protests as he is dragged away, “But that’s what he wants.  For us to watch.”

Cullen chuckles.  Shea moans a little louder than she intended.  The other bar patrons don’t seem to notice.  Hearing them say the words out loud, makes her drop the pretext of conversation.  Her full focus returns to holding in her sounds and hiding any visible sign that she is being fingered by her Commander in public.  She quietly moans his name.

This whole display has made Dorian hard as rock.  His crossed legs and the table hiding it from view.  He is very tempted to just scoot back enough for them to see it.  Let them know exactly what their little show is doing to him.  He twists the end of his moustache between his fingers.

Cullen nuzzles her shoulder and whispers, “Sit up, love.”  She shakes her head. He nuzzles behind her ear.  “Come on, love.  Let him see you.”

She knows this is wrong, but the gravel in his voice makes her surrender to his whim.  She moans and leans back against him.  He nips at her heated skin.  Her head falls back to rest on his shoulder and her chest heaves as the constant pleasure pulsing through her makes her breathless.  Cullen’s hand starts moving faster.  The tavern can’t see him, not that he cares, and there’s no hiding what he’s doing now.  Her tits bounce in her dress as his hand moves fast and hard inside her.  She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes closed trying to hold it together.  Dorian leans forward with one elbow on the table.  He watches Shea’s face.  He’s never seen a woman orgasm and he is both fascinated and aroused.

Cullen watches Dorian admire his fiancé.  He is actually more than a little surprised that he is looking at her and not at him.   Her walls spasm around his fingers.  She is fighting it, trying to hold it back.  “Don’t fight it, Shea.  Let him hear you.  Let everyone hear you.”

She can’t speak.  She can’t make any sounds at all. If she does, it’s all over and the entire tavern will hear the Herald of Andraste orgasm.  Soft fingers brush across her exposed knee.  Her eyes snap open and Dorian is staring at her.  A devilish grin spread across his face.  She shudders as his fingers brush her knee again.  She leans forward and rests her head on the table. 

Cullen chuckles at her attempts to fight off the noise he knows is not far away.  Another desire enters his mind, but it would have to wait until another time.  He may be bold from the alcohol, but he isn’t bold enough to fuck her in this public setting.  Though he knows for a fact that he is going to be taking her out of this tavern and up to their room as soon as he is done with her here.

She whimpers and sighs.  Soft fingers caress her knee.  Lingering on her skin.  It’s too much.  She can’t take it.  She reaches under the table to grab those soft fingers and make them stop.  When her fingers make contact, those fingers lace with hers.  She doesn’t know how to feel about this.  This whole thing makes her feel naïve and utterly powerless.  And yet she can’t deny that it is hot.  She turns her head to the side.  She looks at Cullen first.  He looks proud of himself.  She shifts her gaze to Dorian and he squeezes her hand.  Then his eyes flick up to Cullen.  She follows his line of sight.  She gasps and moans when she sees that the men are making eye contact.  It’s too much.  She presses her forehead into the table.  Her whole body spasms.  She cries out, “Oh Maker!”  Her walls close around his fingers and she rains down over them.  Her hand grips around Dorian’s as the wave pulses through her.  He can’t help but laugh as people in the tavern finally turn to see what is happening.

“A little late fellas,” he mumbles.

She keeps her face pressed to the table as the aftershocks hit.  Cullen’s hand has stopped moving.  She slowly sits up, releasing Dorian’s hand.  Cullen runs his fingers between her drenched folds before removing his hand from her smalls.  She looks over at him and he licks his lips.  She looks down at where his hand sits palm up on the table.  His fingers curled slightly over his palm.  They glisten with her juices.  She looks back at him.  Before he can move his hand to his mouth, Dorian grabs his wrist.  They look at him. 

He smirks, “You know.  I’ve never…”

Her eyes go wide and she looks over at Cullen.  A devilish smile breaks across his face.  She inhales sharply.  She watches his eyes shift back to Dorian.  _How drunk must he be if he is actually considering this?  There’s no way he would…_ The thought gets cut off as Cullen nods to Dorian.  He scoots his chair around the table.  Her mouth hangs open in shock.  Dorian raises Cullen’s hand to his mouth and her eyes follow the motion.  Dorian winks at her before slipping Cullen’s fingers into his mouth.  He sucks on them and hums.  She nearly faints.  Cullen tightens his hold on her when he feels her sway.

Her head swims watching Dorian lick and suck her off Cullen’s fingers.  This has taken a turn that she is not entirely comfortable with.  Her cheeks heat and she reaches down to fix her dress.  She looks away from both of them unable to watch them anymore.  She hears a slurp and can’t help but look over.  Cullen’s hand is back on the table and Dorian lips glisten with her juices and his saliva.  Cullen dries his hand on his pants.  He brushes a few strands of hair from her face.  She feels a little angry suddenly.  “I… I… think I’m going to go to the room.”

“Oh come now.  You aren’t mad are you?  You seemed to be really enjoying yourself.”

She slides out of his lap.  “I just… I need a minute.”  She turns and walks out of the tavern.  The cold winter air hits her overheated skin and she leans against the wall.  She closes her eyes and inhales the cold air deep into her lungs.  _What the hell was that?  Why the hell would he let him…?_ She sighs.  Though the action was overwhelming and shocking, part of her thought it was hot.  Dorian went from witness to participant.  She held his hand while she came.  She growls and shoves off the wall.  She is turned on and a little angry, but she isn’t entirely sure if she should be or if she should feel flattered that he is interested.  She paces outside the tavern her cloak billowing behind her.  Her inner thighs are a little sticky from their public activities.  She backs into the wall again and then slides down it.  She feels depraved.  Sinful.

She pulls her hair forward over one shoulder and plays with the ends of it.  _He let him taste me.  What next?  Was he going to let Dorian fuck me?_ Her minds creates images of the three of them in bed together.  Dorian fucking her while Cullen fucked him.  She growls and presses her palms against her eyes.  _What is wrong with me?  What has that man done to me?_

Cullen comes staggering out of the tavern.  He looks around and spots her on the ground.  “Shea?”

She doesn’t look at him.  She feels ashamed at her thoughts.  She can’t look at him.  She can’t speak to him.  She can’t name all the things she is feeling.  The mixture of pleasure, desire, shame, and depravity making it impossible for her to think.

He slides down the wall next to her.  “Did I go too far?”  She shrugs and nods.  Then shakes her head.  She sighs.  He groans.  “Maker.  I’m sorry.  I just… I got caught up in the moment.  I don’t know what came over me.  And now I’ve upset you.”

She uncovers her face and looks over at him.  “You know that… you’re the only one who’s…”

“I know.  And now someone else has tasted what is supposed to be mine.”

She shakes her head, “I didn’t take you for someone willing to share.”

“I’m not.  Like I said, I don’t what made me do that.  It won’t happen again.”

She sighs.  “I feel depraved.  I shouldn’t have… enjoyed you doing that to me in such a public place.  But I did.  And I’m not… I don’t know if… Maker if you could hear the things swirling around in my head.”

“Care to go up to our room to talk about it?”

“I feel really overwhelmed right now.”

He scoots closer to her.  “I can think of a few things I can do to distract you.”

Her face flushes.  She leans toward him and his lips collide with hers.  He threads his fingers into her hair holding her to him.  The kiss is heated and the animal inside her breaks free of its cage.  She bites his lower lip and he moans.  He breaks their kiss and stands.  He pulls her off the ground and pulls her by the hand towards the inn.  They barely make it through the door to their room before he starts pulling her clothes off.  She stops him.  Her mind and the animal inside her start fighting.  She places her hand on his chest.

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Tell me what you were thinking.”

“At what point?”

“When Dorian was sucking me off your fingers.”

He smirks.  “Now it’s my turn to feel depraved.”

“Oh?”

“I thought that he was really good at it.  And… I wondered what else he might be good at.”

She blushes from her cheeks to her breasts.  “Would you ever…?”

“Ever?  Let him suck me off?”  She nods.  When he has to actually think about it instead of immediately shooting it down, she backs away from him.  “Did I do something wrong?”

She shakes her head, “No, but you’re playing right into the thoughts I’ve been having.”

He walks towards her as he removes his shirt, “Oh?  And what might those thoughts be?”

“I shouldn’t say.  They make me feel dirty.”

He grabs her hips and pulls her towards him.  “Should I tell you some of my thoughts then?”  He kisses the side of her neck and she moans.  “I could answer that question you asked me a moment ago.”

She slides her hands up arms.  She grips his biceps.  “You had to think about that.”

“I wasn’t… thinking about my answer.  I was thinking about what your reaction to my answer might be.”  He backs her into the bed and the force makes her sit.  She leans back with her palms on the bed.  She is so curious about what his answer is, but she doesn’t know if it’s something she should know.  She bites her lip.  “The answer… is yes.”

“What?  Really?”

He laughs.  “Yes, really.  Maybe it’s the alcohol talking or something else, I don’t know.  But… I’d let him do it right now.”

She traces her fingers along her collarbone.  “I’m sure Bull wouldn’t like that.  They are exclusive you know.”

“Tell that to Dorian.  Did you think I didn’t notice him touching you?  Or him holding your hand?”

She blushes and lays back on the bed.  “Maker’s balls.  I’m so fucking embarrassed.  And turned on.  And… just so many things.”

He sits next to her.  “Alright.  So, no more exhibitionism for you.”

“It’s not that.  I just… you’re the only man who has ever turned me on like this and… now I have to add Dorian of all people to that list.”

“You were never turned on by Hawke?”

She groans and looks at him.  “Only because of a desire demon.  I’ve never wanted to fuck Hawke.”

He picks up her hand and plays with her fingers. “And you want to fuck Dorian?”

“Is that weird?  Or wrong?  There’s always been this flirtous relationship between us.  I’m sure you’ve seen it, but he likes men.  And I thought that was it was exclusively men, but now after seeing his face tonight…”

“He wants you.”

“That’s the feeling I get.”

Cullen pulls on her hand to make her sit up.  He pulls her chin towards him to make her look at him.  “He said as much.  Actually, his wants both of us.  He’s always wanted me, but you know that.”

She nods.  “He has also said on multiple occasions that if he were remotely interested in women, he’d be all over me.”

“He’s not interested in women. He’s interested in you.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He smirks and pulls her chin toward him to kiss her.  “It turns me on to be totally candid.  I’m not sure when this change happened.  Maybe he used blood magic on us.”

“Or we’re just really horny.”

He laughs.  “I’m sure that plays a big part of it.”

They look into each other’s eyes for a long moment.  “Would… would you… bah forget it.  I’m not even sure I’d want that.”

He kisses her nose.  “Want what?”

“I… Maker what’s wrong with me?  Why am I even entertaining this idea?”

He brushes his fingers down her scar, “You want to watch him do it.  Don’t you?”

She leans her forehead against his.  “Yes, and… more.”

“More?”

“Yes.”

His ale soaked breath hits her face as he exhales.  “You want to watch me… fuck him?”

“Why do you make it sound like I’m not crazy for thinking that?”

He shrugs, “The book said your libido would be kicked into high gear this month and that I shouldn’t be surprised if you started thinking about other men.”

“Alright.  That explains my behavior, but what about yours?”

“Lots of ale, maybe.”

“Then we should save this conversation until you are sober.”

He lays back on the bed.  He looked a little green.  She sighs. _So, much for sex tonight.  There’s always tomorrow._   She gets off the bed and grabs his hand.  “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Where are we going?”

“You are going down the hall to the bathroom.”

“Why?”  She gives him a minute.  The need to throw up hits him.  “Oh.  That’s why.  You stay here and get ready for bed.  I’m going to go… you know.”  He stumbles out of the room.  She changes out of her new clothes and sets them next to her bag.  She removes her new breast band and grabs his cream colored shirt out her bag.  She looks around for a moment.  She nods when she finds that the clothes she wore shopping had been delivered.  She pulls the shirt over her head and climbs into the bed.

She lays on her back and stares at the ceiling.  Tracing the lines of the wood with her eyes.  After some time, he comes stumbling back in.  “I think I’m good now.  I washed my mouth and drank some water so you don’t have to mother me.”

“I didn’t plan on it.”  He climbs into bed beside her and as soon as he is comfortable, he passes out. She gives him a few minutes to get to sleep soundly.  She doesn’t have to try to escape since he didn’t grab her before passing out.  She slips off the bed and out the room.  She walks down the hall and stops when she sees him leaning against the wall outside his room.

“Hey.”

He looks over at her and smiles, “Hey yourself.”

“I… uh… I’m actually not sure why I’m here.”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“You do?” 

He nods, but doesn’t respond.  She waits.  While she waits, she fiddles with the untied laces of her shirt.  “Well, for one, we just had a shared experience that… could make our friendship very awkward.  Not to mention the very brief discussion I had with Cullen after you left.”  He pushes off the wall and walks toward her.  She backs away from him and then her back hits a wall. “Look, I’m not stupid.  Far from it.  You two are an item and no amount of flirting on my part will change that.  However, I was getting some very strong signals from him tonight.  That man is a sexual deviant.  And that’s saying something coming from me.  Bull doesn’t believe for one second that our illustrious commander would sleep with a man.  Ever.  I, on the other hand, feel like he might.  And maybe that’s just the part of me who still has a massive crush on him, but maybe not.”  He brushes her hair off her shoulder.  He takes a step towards her.  “But then… something else happened that I was not expecting and it all started with a kiss that was supposed to be platonic.  I have always thought you are a remarkable woman.  I’ve told you this on numerous occasions.  But that kiss and then watching…” He takes another step closer.  She can feel and smell his warm wine scented breath on her face.  One more step and he would be pressing up against her.  “And then tasting you on his fingers...”  Her breathing has become faster.  He licks his lips and looks down at her.  The soft skin of her breasts peeking up at him through Cullen’s shirt.  “I can’t name this power you both seem to have over me.  I guess I’m just caught in your orbit.  Maybe distance will make that easier to handle.”

She finally looks up into his eyes.  “Are you saying that you’re leaving?”

He laughs, “Oh, heavens no.  I’m saying it would make things easier as far as this lust is concerned.  For instance, I find myself wondering if your breasts still feel the same as they did when I healed you after Haven.  Or if the fact that they are larger now has changed anything.  This is completely foreign to me.  I’ve only ever been attracted to one woman and she is passing.  But you...  You are 100% woman.  I know the parts you have, yet for some unknown reason, I want to…”  His hand raises and hovers it over her chest.  He doesn’t touch her.  He closes his fist and steps back dropping his arm.  “Fasta vass.  I need to go fuck my boyfriend before I do something I’ll regret.”  He turns to leave and she grabs his arm.

“Cullen confessed somethings to me tonight.  I think this is why I came here.  My problem with all the… uh… things we talked about is that you are committed to the Iron Bull.  That and Cullen is fucking wasted.  However, I plan on talking to him in the morning before I sneak off to get ready.  If in his sober state he feels the same way as he does tonight…”

He turns to face her.  “Oh, Shea.  Don’t tease me.  I would really rather just touch myself to the fantasy than get my hopes up only for it not to happen.”

“Look.  I’m not making promises.  Like I said, I need to talk to him while he’s sober.  And you need to have that conversation with Bull.  Because if he’s game… then so am I.”

Dorian sighs.  “I’ll talk to him.  But can I ask one thing before I do?”

“Sure.”

“Regardless of his answer in the morning, come tell me right away.  I don’t think I can sit around all day and night waiting to hear back from you.”

“I can do that.  Other than that, the plan is the same.”

“Got it.”

She steps closer to him.  She takes his hands.  Her callused fingers meet his soft ones.  “No matter what happens with all this… stuff, you are still my best friend.  Nothing will change that.”

He chuckles, “Sex will change that.  Though I imagine if I’m your third then, maybe it won’t.  It’ll just make coming to visit from Tevinter a little more fun.”

She smiles at him, “Good night.  I’ll keep you posted.”

He nods, “I’ll wait until I hear something from you before talking to Bull.”  She nods.  He kisses the back on her hand and goes into his room.

She walks slowly back to where her fiancé is sleeping.  _What am I doing?   Why am I doing it?  Is this what other couples do?  Indulge in fantasies?  Some of which I didn’t even know I had?  Maker, what if he says yes?_ She chuckles to herself with her had on the doorknob.  _If he does, this is going to be one hell of a birthday party_.  She turns the knob and steps into the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::anxiously chews fingernails waiting for comments::
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	8. Celebration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the Bday festivities begin!

Cullen has the pillow smashed against his head.  He has the worst hangover he has ever had.  She rubs his back and he groans.  As softly as she can manage she asks, “Are you alright, my love?”  He groans softly.  “I can help if you want, but you’re going to have to leave your pillow cave.”

She pulls come magic into her fingers and places them at the back of his neck.  She gently rubs him there.  He sighs and slowly pulls the pillow off his head.  He finds that the room is pitch black save for a few small dimly glowing orbs floating around them.  He rolls towards her and places his head in her lap.  He looks up at her and she smiles at him.  _Maker.  She’s perfect._ She pulls more healing magic into her fingers and gently runs them through his hair and along his scalp.  He sighs as relief washes over him.  The pain subsiding with every pass of her fingers.  His voice is thick and raspy from the pain and having just woken up, “Thank you, love.”

She bends down and kisses his forehead.  “Shh.  Just relax.”  She can feel his headache subsiding and then it vanishes completely.  She turns off the spell, but continues to run her fingers through his hair.  “So… I wanted to ask you something about last night.”

“I’m not sure I remember much.”

“Really?”

“I don’t remember leaving the tavern.”  He smirks and opens his eyes, “But I do remember one thing, though I’m not entirely sure if it actually happened.”  The blush that appears on her face lets him know that it did happen.  “So, that did happen.”

She nods, “It certainly did.  And you don’t remember the conversation we had afterwards?”

He shakes his head, “Do enlighten me.”

She sighs.  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Making you come the second time.”

“And do you remember what you did after?”

He looks into her eyes, “Was it bad?”  She laughs and lays back on the bed.  He sits up and crawls over to her.  “What’s so funny?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you.  I had no idea you were that drunk last night.  I mean I knew you were pretty wasted, but damn.”  She sees the lines on his face crease with worry.  She touches his face trying to smooth them out.  “It’s not necessarily bad, but you might not like it now that you’re sober.”  She clears her throat and he waits.  “So you recall we had an audience?”  He nods, “And do you recall audience member getting… involved?”

He has to think about it, the fog still hasn’t lifted from over him and it makes his mind a little sluggish.  “Uh… I think so?  Wait… yes!  He touched your leg and held your hand.  Why did I let him do that?”

She laughs.  “Oh dear, dear Cullen.  You let him do more than that and the conversation we had after indicated rather directly that you were more than willing to let him go even further.”

“Can you just tell me?  My headache is going to come back if I try any harder to remember.”

She sits up, “Well, first off, you let him clean me off your fingers.”

“No way.  That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“Well, you did.  And then proceeded to tell me that you’d let him…”

Cullen rolls on to his back and covers his face.  “I thought I had dreamed that conversation.”

“So, you do remember?”

He groans, “I do.”

“And how do you feel about that proposition now?”

He looks over at her.  “How do you feel about it?”

She nibbles on her bottom lip.  “I think it’d be… really hot.  I suppose I shouldn’t feel that way.  I should want to keep you all to myself.  But the idea of the three of us… maybe it’s because I’ve only ever been with you, but I find myself extremely curious if there’s a difference between you and someone else.  And it’s Dorian.  If we’re going to experiment with anyone else, who better?”

“He talks a lot.”

“Yes, but I know for a fact he can keep secrets when he needs to.  He won’t able to hide something like this from Bull, or Cole, but he other than that he won’t tell anyone if we don’t want him to.”

Cullen scratches his chest.  “So, this is something you’d be… into?” 

She nods, “But only if you are.  I imagine you’d be the… uh… dominant one in this scenario.  You know how timid I can get.”

“Only when it’s new.  You can be quite commanding when you want to be.”

A small smile touches her lips.  “So?”

“So?”

“Is this… something you want actually want to do?”

He rubs his neck.  “I think the biggest problem here is that I don’t want to share you with anyone.  I mean I suppose we wouldn’t know until…”

“I didn’t think I’d have a desire to share you either, but something about last night… watching the two of you make eye contact… watching him…”  She can already feel heat pooling low in her body.  She licks her lips and looks into his eyes.  He has seen this look before.

“This is already turning you on.”  She nods.  “I’m not saying no.  But I would like to think about it.”

“That’s fair.  I’ll let him know you need more time.”

“You talked to him already?”

She smirks, “I felt like I needed to address the possibility before things got out of hand.  He’s not getting his hopes up.  At least, he’s trying not to.  I told him I would discuss this with you when you were sober and let him know your response.”

She lets him process her words.  She has the feeling it won’t matter what his response his.  She’ll be a little disappointed either way.  If he says no, then she won’t get to watch them or even add a new sexual experience to her ever growing list.  If he says yes, she’ll have to share him and even potentially risk ruining her friendship with Dorian because of it.

He plays with her hair as he mulls over the answer.  He has never in his life had a desire to do anything like this.  Men never once tempted him.  But even that small touch while he fingered her in public, made him curious as to what other pleasurable experiences the mage had to offer.  He wished he could remember what it looked and felt like to watch Dorian suck on his fingers.  His eyes scan her body as she lays on the bed.  Her head is turned away from him to allow him this private moment to think.  Her breathing his heavy with anticipation of his answer.  The rise and fall of her chest helping to soothe him.  He allows his mind to picture what this might look like.  Looking down at a man sucking his cock.  Watching this man have his first sexual experience with a real woman.  Imagining what it might feel like for both of them to fill her at the same time.

She smirks as a low rumble raises from his chest.  “Enjoying your little fantasy?”

He chuckles, “Maybe a little.  Oh, what the hell.  Let’s do it.  If we start and it doesn’t feel right, we can stop it and try to forget it ever happened.”

She sits up and ruffles his hair.  “I’ll go tell him then.  Do you mind if I set this up?”

He shrugs, “That’s fine.  He is more your friend than mine.”

She kisses him and gets out of bed.  “Get some rest, if you can.  I’m sure you’re still tired.”

“I am.  Is there water nearby?”

She motions to the nightstand.  “I put the water skin there in case you needed it.”  She pulls off her shirt and gets dressed for the day, wearing the same plum dress from the night before.  She pulls on and laces her new boots.  She goes over to him and his kisses him.  “I’ll be back later.”

“Shea.  A quick thought before you go proposition Dorian.”

She smirks.  “Yes?”

“When are we going to do this?  You’re pregnant after all.”

“I’m well aware of what I am.”

“Should we wait until after?  While we’re at Skyhold?”

She caresses his face.  “Feeling nervous?”

“Yes, but I’m more concerned about… well you know what I’m concerned about.”

“I would rather strike while the iron is hot and while I’m not completely repulsive.”

He laughs. “No one will ever be able to use that word to describe you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.  Ultimately, it’s your call.  We don’t have to rush into this.”

She kisses him briefly.  “I’m going to leave before you manage to talk me out of this.”  She turns for the door and he grabs her around the waist.

“Hurry back.”

She turns in his arms.  “Any particular reason why?”

He chuckles, “All this talk as me a little wound up.”

She smiles, “There will be plenty of time for that today.  Since we taking a break and spending the day here.”

“That’s right.  I forgot we were staying.”  He pulls her down to kiss her.  She shoves him back on the bed after they part.

“Get some rest.  I’ll be back.”  He releases her and she leaves the room.

She heads down the hall towards the other room.  She spots him pacing outside the door to his room.  She slowly walks towards him, her heart pounding in her chest.  It is an odd feeling for the sight of her best friend to trigger such a reaction.  She swallows the lump in her throat and approaches him.  When he spots her, he stops pacing and walks to meet her.  He hooks his arm with hers and leads her away from the room.  He turns down the hallway that leads to the washroom.  There are no doors on this hallway, save the one at the end of it.  When they stop, he releases her arm and paces the hall in front of her. She leans against the wall.

“It’s bad news.  Isn’t it?”

She smirks, “Depends on what your definition of bad is?”

He stops pacing and looks at her.  He moves to stand in front of her.  “What did he say?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

He looks into her eyes.  His steely gray eyes searching hers for something.  “You’re serious?”

“Don’t I look serious?”

“Please stop answering my questions with questions.”

She laughs.  “I’m sorry.  To answer them properly then, I believe it is good news.  He said that he is still interested.  Yes, I’m serious.  Are you busy tonight?”

Dorian backs up to lean against the wall opposite her.  “If only I had placed a bet on this.  Bull is convinced that it won’t happen.  And I suppose that is still true.  This is something you both want?”

Shea bites her lip.  He looks nervous.  “What part of this makes you nervous?  Because I won’t lie to you.  This whole lust and depravity game is super new to me.  And he’s never had the desire to be with a man, so this is new for him too.  There’s a lot of firsts about to go down, but we are both ready if you are.”

“I have to say.  For someone who was so innocent before all this, you sure are leaping in with both feet.  Though, that is how you operate in most situations so I’m not sure why I’m surprised.  It seems too good to be true right now.”

She pushes off the wall and closes the distance between them.  “I won’t say that it won’t be awkward.  I’m fairly certain it will be.  I have no idea about the… mechanics of how two men… that is your area of expertise.”

He nods.  “I can bring things we might need.  So, this is really happening?”

“Seems that way.  He said he would try mind you.  So, he might back out during.”  She takes a step closer, feeling dirty and sexy at their closeness.  “Though… if he allows it, I’m still willing to…”

“Take what’s left of my innocence?”

“If that’s how you want to look at, then yes.”

He nods.  “I’ve already spoken to him, by the way.  He’s not near as upset as I thought he would be.  He’s actually encouraging it.  He doesn’t think it’ll actually happen, but he said more power to me.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but he does understand what exclusive means doesn’t he?”

He laughs, “Of course, he does!  He just knows that there are some opportunities that you shouldn’t ignore.  Especially when that experience involves two people I’ve been lusting after for quite some time.”

She blushes and pushes her hair behind her ear.  “Just how long have you been lusting after _me_ , Master Pavus?”

He smirks, making his moustache dance at the corner of his mouth.  “Since that trip we took with Cullen when we were hunting for Samson.  The night you got a standing ovation from your first audience.”

Her blush deepens, “I feel like he started building a pattern after that.  He was always careful that there wasn’t anyone around to listen.  And now...”

“His inviting the audience to have a hands-on interaction?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what’s the plan?  Is he expecting it to be tonight?”

She shrugs, “Not sure if he expects it tonight, but might as well.”  She pulls the room key to the other room from her pocket and offers it to him.  “You know the plan.  We’re just… amending it slightly.  I would like you to be in the room when we get there.  Fully clothed.  Let’s not scare him too much at one time.  He’s going to probably say something about being careful with me, but I can assure you, I’ll be fine.  So, I expect you to give it your all.”

He chuckles, “Darling, I never hold back when it’s something this important.  It is good to know now, that I can disregard that warning from him.”

“So, we’re good to go then?”

“I think so.  When are you sneaking away?”

She chuckles, “Now.  I don’t think I’ll find a better opportunity.  When you go in there to dress him later, don’t mention this.  Let him be surprised.”

He nods.  “I’ll do my best.”

She pats him on the arm, not sure what else to do.  He pulls her into a hug, his arms wrapped around her chest.  She hugs him back.  This is a hug of friendship not a prelude to more.  It’s one of those hugs that feel like change is coming.  And it is.  Their friendship won’t be the same after tonight.  Hopefully, it won’t ruin it and instead make it stronger.  He sets her down and lets her back away.  She smiles and turns towards the stairs.  She has stashed the dress she’s wearing at the tailor’s shop and has a few more things to do before she’s ready for him.

***

A bright light floods his room.  Cullen groans and pulls the covers over his head.  “Rise and shine, Commander.”

He sits up quickly at the sound of Dorian’s voice.  He looks around and doesn’t see Shea.  “Um… what are you doing in here?”

Dorian smirks, “My intentions are perfectly innocent.  Here.”  Dorian holds out an envelope.  Cullen takes it and sees his name scribbled across it in her handwriting.  He pulls the letter from it and reads:

 

_Cullen,_

_First off, Happy Birthday!  I bet you thought I forgot.  I was tracking more than my pregnancy with my little calendar.  I have quite a few surprises in store for you today.  Dorian has your attire for the evening.  Please don’t fight him on it.  He assures me you will like it.  Once he deems that you are ready and presentable, he will give you the next letter.  Let the hunt begin!_

_Love,_

_Shea_

Cullen looks up at Dorian who is now holding a basket of stuff.  He climbs out of the bed.  “What am I supposed to do first?”

Dorian holds out the basket and Cullen takes it.  “They are all labeled.  This has all been crafted for you by yours truly.  Go down the hall to the wash room.  I’ll wait here.”  Dorian sits on the bed and crosses his legs.  Cullen looks into the basket and then over to him.  “Well, go on.  We haven’t got all day.”  Cullen trudges down the hall to the washroom.

He sets the basket down and strips naked.  He goes to the bath and sees that there is already steaming water in it.  He looks at the items in the basket.  He sees several different numbered bottles.  He picks up the one labeled “Number one.”  _Pour this whole bottle in the water._ He smells it.  It doesn’t have a smell, so he wonders what it does.  Shrugging he pours the contents in the water.  The soothing smell of Embrium fills the air and the water cools a little.  _Why didn’t that have smell though?  Must be magic related._   He sighs and pulls out bottle two. _Wash your body with this.  Do NOT get it in your hair._   He puts the basket on the edge of the bath and climbs in.  He finds a cloth in the basket where this second bottle was located.  He settles in a washes himself with the foamy liquid.  His skin tingles and any tension in his muscles just melts away, including the one that constantly aches in his neck. 

Once clean, he relaxes against the tub wall, enjoying the sensation of being completely pain free for once.  As the water starts to cool, he pulls out bottle three. _Relaxed?  Good.  This will warm the water.  Pour it all in._   He does and the water heats back up.  _Definitely magic._   Pulls out bottle four.  _Wash your hair with this.  Count to 60 then wash it out._

“This is all very complicated.”  He washes his hair with the liquid, counts to 60, then washes it out.  There’s only one bottle left.  He grabs it.  _Leave hair wet.  Dry body completely and rub this on your skin.  And I mean ALL of your skin._   _Do not put clothes on after, just cover yourself with a towel._   Cullen rolls his eyes.  Of course Dorian would want him to rub whatever this was all over himself and then show up in the room naked.  But he does as instructed.  He dries himself then rubs the liquid that feels like sort of oil on his skin.  He starts at his feet and work his way up.  He rolls his eyes and makes sure to get into ever crevasse.  He is fairly certain the mage is going to check to make sure he had actually put it everywhere.  When he finishes, he notices that the oil is soaking rather quickly into his skin.  He secures the towel around his waist and gathers up his clothes.  He returns to his room.

Dorian smirks as Cullen enters his skin glistening from the oil.  “Do I need to check or should I trust you?”

“That’s up to you.”

His steely eyes look him up and down.  “I think I’ll trust you. Did you put in on your face too?” Cullen nods.  “Excellent!”  He stands and goes over to his pile of stuff.  He fans a towel out over the bed and pats it.  “Have a seat, ser.”  Cullen drops his clothes by his bag and sits on the bed.  “When was the last time you had a proper hair cut?”

Cullen’s brows furrow.  “I am not letting you touch my hair.”

Dorian laughs, “She said you were protective of your curls.”  He motions to his own hair.  “I know how you feel.  I only trust myself with my hair.  But yours is getting a little long.  I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Still not happening.”

Dorian twirls his moustache.  He gasps.  “I know!  You let me cut your hair and if you don’t like it… I’ll cut off my moustache.”

Cullen laughs.  “You would look strange without it.”

“That’s how confident I am.  I don’t plan on doing anything drastic.  You can still style it the same way you always do.  But if gets any longer, you won’t be able to as your curls with refuse to behave.”

He sighs, “Fine.  But I’m holding you to this agreement.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”  Dorian grabs a comb and scissors from his bag.  He climbs on the bed behind Cullen.  He places a hand on his muscled shoulder to steady himself before he begins.  Cullen notes how soft his fingers are.  Softer than Shea’s.  But she has the hands of a warrior, like he does.  He closes his eyes when he hears the first snip.  Dorian hums to himself as he combs and snips Cullen’s hair.  “You have more scars than I realized.”

“I figured you’d have them memorized by now.  You stare at me enough.”

Dorian chuckles, “From a distance.  You’ve rarely been this close to me shirtless.  Much less in just a towel.”

“I vaguely recall you drying my backside once.”

Dorian hums, “Hmmm.  Yes.  If only it had been under better circumstances.”  He pats his shoulders.  “All done.”

“That was fast.”

Dorian smirks as he climbs off the bed.  “Deft fingers.”  He pulls a mirror from his bag.  “This is before styling it.  But if you ever just let it do its own thing, then this is what it will look like.”  He hands Cullen the mirror.  He curls are shorter and they look gently tousled and one curl hangs down onto his forehead.  He smirks.

“Guess you get to keep your moustache.”

“Oh, goodie.  My lip would be so cold without it.”  Dorian grabs a bottle from Cullen’s bag.  “Now, is this what you use to style your hair?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve got something better, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Go ahead.  I’ve been using the same thing for years.”

“I’ve noticed.”  He hands Cullen a bottle.  “It’s from Tevinter.  So, I can send you more after I leave.  It smells nicer than your old stuff, but does pretty much the same job.”

Cullen pours a little in his hands, rubs them together, and runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.  He wipes his hand on the towel around his waist.  “Hey.  It’s not all sticky like my old stuff.”

“It’s what I use on my hair, but you can keep that.”

“Won’t you need it then?”

Dorian chuckles.  “Look at it this way.  Leliana and Josie can’t tease you about your hair every time you run out, because you won’t have to request it from them ever again.”

“A great point.”

Dorian turns his back to Cullen.  He starts going through the things he brought.  He holds out a pair of black leather pants.  “Put these on.  And then those boots.”  He points to them by the door.  Cullen drops his towel and glances back at Dorian.  He knows the mage wants to look, but he appreciates that he respects his privacy.  He starts to wonder if she has even spoken to him yet.  “Do you have an undershirt?”

“Yes.”

“Put that on, too.”

Cullen pulls his tank top from his bag and puts it on.  Out of habit, he tucks it in.  Gets handed a maroon shirt.  It looks exactly like his other shirts, but the material is thicker and there is a faint pattern swirling in the fabric.  He slips it on over his head.  The weight of the fabric makes it feel expensive, but he doesn’t feel dressed up.  This still feels very casual.  Dorian comes over and buttons the cuffs around his wrists.  This makes the sleeves hug his muscle more, yet he still has full range of motion.  Dorian secures the two knotted rope style buttons on the front of the shirt and adjusts his collar.  He turns and grabs a thick black belt and hands it to him.  There is a spot in it to put his sword.

“She wants me to be armed?”

“That was my touch.  I know how you hate being unarmed.”

Dorian stands back from him as he threads his sword in the spot reversed for it.  The mage twirls the end of his moustache.  “Something’s missing.”  Dorian looks around the room.  “Ah ha!”  He grabs Cullen’s mantle from the pile that his armor is in.  He hands it to him.  Cullen puts it on.  Dorian goes to his things and grabs a pair of black gloves.  He tucks them into Cullen’s belt.  He stands back again.  “You look great!  Just the right amount of nobility, yet still very casual.  Thoughts?”

“I wish I could see myself, but I actually like it.  Seems like something I’d pick out.”

“Mission accomplished then.”  Dorian produces another envelope.  “My job here is done.  Have fun tonight.”  Dorian leaves the room.  He opens the letter and reads it:

 

_Cullen,_

_Do you remember when we first met?  What am I saying, of course you do.  What was in my hand that day?  Go out in the town and track it down._

_Shea_

He heads out the door and goes out into the street.  He spots a townsperson, “Excuse me?”

He looks at him, “How can I help you, Commander?”

“Could you point me in the direction of the blacksmith?”

“Just head down the street that way.  You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

Cullen walks down the street with purpose in his steps.  Black smoke billows from a building at the end of the street.  He opens the door and enters the hot front room.  A woman straightens behind the counter.  “Welcome to Javier’s.  The finest smith in Montsimmard.  How can I help you?”

He smiles at her.  “I was hoping you could tell me.  My fiancé sent me looking for a sword.”

“Are you Commander Rutherford?”

“I am.”

“Wait right there.  I’ll go fetch Javier.”  She disappears into the door behind her.  He slowly paces the room with his hands clasped behind his back.  He admires the weaponry on the walls as he waits.

“Commander!  Welcome!”  Cullen turns around and a soot covered, yet finely dressed man now stands behind the counter.  He goes to him.  There is a cloth wrapped weapon on the counter.  “The Inquisitor was very specific in her order.  She hopes it is to your liking.”  He unwraps the weapon.  The scabbard of the sword is polished wood with gold and silver crisscrossing inlays. The pointed tip is also gold with silver engravings.  The hilt of the sword is silver with a rich dark brown leather wrapped around it.  Cullen brushes his finger alone the surface.  He grasps the hilt and pulls the blade from its sheath.  The blade is flat with two sharp edges on either side.  The balance and weight are perfect.

“It’s stunning.  Fine work, indeed.  But it’s a one-handed weapon.  Why would she need something like this?”

“It is my understanding, ser, that this and the matching shield I’m still working on are your birthday presents.  I was told to give you this letter.  I hate to leave like this, but the shield design with very complicated and I’ve got metal to shape before it cools.”

“Thank you.”

“Tis my pleasure, ser, to work on such a fine sets of arms.”  He dips his head and ducks out of the room.  Cullen just stares at the blade.  It’s beautiful and prefect.  It is everything he could ever want in a sword.  He slides it back in the scabbard and wraps the cloth around it.  He picks up her letter and opens it.

 

_Harritt and Dagna were heartbroken that they couldn’t make this for you.  That was my plan, but my constant vomiting got in the way.  So, Harritt handpicked this guy and sent him the schematics.  And Dagna is ready to enchant it whenever you are.  I really hope you like it._

_At the Winter Palace, you commented that you didn’t know how to dance.  Yet you showed everyone up by performing a dance from Tevinter.  According to Dorian, what is that dance about?_

“That is too easy.”  He grabs his new sword and swings by the room to switch his old sword for his new one.  And then it dawns on him.  This town was full of magic.  “Well, if she wanted me to go to the circle, she would have said something where that was the answer.  What did he say?  It was about a Magister and his magic.  Their relationship.  Where might someone go to revel in the use of their magic?  Well, that dance is a spectacle.  Something to be seen.  Hmm…”  He hears a whistle in the air and then a boom.  “Fireworks?  Those can’t be for me.  She knew I’d come back here and switch out the swords.”

He rushes down the stairs and into the street.  Sure enough a string of fireworks shoot into the air as soon as he gets out the door.  They are all reds, pinks, oranges, and whites.  They remind him of fire.   _A mage and his magic.  A spectacle.  Fire._   He sees people surging through the streets.  Their voices excited.  He listens in to see where they are going.

“Oh, it has been ages since they’ve had an opera!”

“I do hope it’s one about romance!”

“Did you hear that it’s an all mage cast?  How thrilling!”

He shakes his head.  _That can’t be where she wants me to go.  I distinctly remember her telling a story about her aunt and her obsession with Antivan Opera during that disastrous Wicked Grace game.  But it fits the bill so, I guess that’s where I’ll go._   He follows the crowd and it leads him to a great big open air theater.  People are clamoring to get their hands on tickets.  He feels a tug on his pants.  He looks down and small child.  Clearly orphaned and starving.  He squats down to get on the boy’s level.

“Can I help you, young man?”

The kid smiles, showing off his missing front tooth.  “She said you’d be friendly!”

“She?”

“The Herald of Andraste!  She told me to wait here for a man who looked like you, who had that sword.  You’re him right?”

“I suppose I am.”

The child digs in his pockets.  He pulls out a crumpled paper and holds it out to him.  Cullen takes it and smooths it out on his knee, “My name is Kyle and I was born in Kinloch Hold.  My mother died giving birth to me, but my father hid me away.  Pa always talked about the man who saved us.  That’s you, Ser!  Pa’s gone now.  Lyrium got him, but I live in the circle here.  I’m not a mage, but I want to be a templar just like you!”  Cullen’s eyes go wide.  He doesn’t remember that happening.  He looks at the paper the boy handed him.  It’s a portrait of a young couple.  The boy points to the page, “That’s Pa.  And that’s me and Ma.  I’m in her tummy.”

Cullen recognizes the man.  It was after all that mess during the Blight, just before Cullen was sent to Kirkwall.  One of the men he had trained with, Jorden, had asked for his help getting reassigned to another circle.  He didn’t know why and he didn’t want to know.  He just got the Knight-Commander to approve the request.  He looks at the child. He was a spitting image of Jorden.  He looks back at the paper.  The woman also looked familiar.  He remembers treating her poorly after those events.  She avoided him for months afterwards.  Now, he knew why.  She was pregnant with a templar’s child and she knew that he would have had to send the child to a different circle when it was old enough to be separated from his mother.

“Kyle.  Why did your father tell you that I saved you both?”

“Pa always said that even when bad stuff happened, you were always kind to your men.  He told you about me and that he wanted to move to a circle that was a little more forgiving.  You sent us here.”

Cullen shakes his head, “I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh he knew that too!  Pa said you made yourself forget so you couldn’t get us in trouble.”

Cullen rubs his neck and hands the paper back to the child.  _How did she figure this out?  How the hell did she find this orphaned child?  Is all of this true?  And why here?_   Fireworks explode overhead.

“Shoot!  I’m late!  I’ve got to go, Ser.  But here.”  He holds out two letters.  “I’m supposed to give those to ya.”  The child launches himself at Cullen and hugs him around the neck.  “Thanks again for saving us!”  The child shoves the letters into Cullen’s hand, runs off, and pushes past the crowd into the theatre.  He stands and watches the door close. The next thing he hears answers at least one of his questions.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!  Welcome to Le Opera Montsimmard!  The very first opera company of its kind!  Prepare to be amazed!”  The child’s voice rings out loud and proud over the crowd inside.  This kid isn’t homeless as he appears.  He is in costume.

Cullen walks away from the theatre and stands under a streetlamp.  He sticks her letter, the clean one with her handwriting on the front, in his pocket.  He takes the battered and weathered letter from its equally battered envelope.

_Knight-Commander Cullen,_

_Congratulations on your promotion!  I have no doubt it is justly deserved.  I have been meaning to write you for ages, but life as a single parent is hard.  On top of trying to keep the circle under control in a way that keeps everyone involved safe.  I never got to properly thank you for saving our lives.  Because that’s what you did whether that memory potion you took lets you recall it or not._

_Covering up Rita’s death, helping my son and I get out of Ferelden, and giving us coin to get a private means of travel to Montsimmard instead of using templar resources._

_I know you have suffered a longtime because of the events that day.  I hope you are well now.  I have decided to write you now because I can feel that my time is growing short.  The nightmares and headaches are unbearable.  And… I can’t tell you how long it took me to remember Rita’s name.  The lyrium sickness will take me soon.  Sooner than I expected if I’m honest._

_Kyle, my son, idolizes you.  Even though he has never seen you or met you, he knows you are the reason he has a family.  We are eternally grateful for everything you’ve done._

_Sincerely,_

_Jorden_

He wipes the tears from his eyes.  _How did she find this?  I’ve never seen this letter before in my life._ He folds up the letter and pulls hers out.

 

_Isn’t Kyle the cutest? And he’s much older than he looks.  A terrific actor.  I saw a little of the rehearsal yesterday._

_I’m sure you are wondering how I managed this.  Short answer.  Magic._

_Long answer.  I’ve been in contact with Varric.  He found some of your personal belongings that got left behind.  Most of them were books and when I was putting them on your shelf this letter fell out.  I knew that it would be helpful for you to see that not all of your actions as a templar were bad ones.  I used a tracking spell on the letter and tracked it here.  Then used magic again yesterday to find Kyle._

_I hope you like this… gift.  And that it at least brings a little warmth to your cold and painful memories.  Knowing you as I do, I know that you are wondering if there are other things like this that you made yourself forget. I don’t know how to help, but I will figure it out if you want me to._

_That will have to wait, however.  You’re next stop on this little adventure is the answer to this next question.  Like any good Fereldan, you crave your own mabari.  Don’t get excited, I didn’t get you a puppy.  But what else do good Fereldan like you crave?_

He knows this answer right away, but has no idea where he could find it.  Especially here.  He wanders the streets looking for somewhere that looks out of place or somewhere that might serve stew.  His favorite meal.  He spots Cole leaning on the outside of deserted looking store front.  He walks up to him.  Cole smiles and without saying a word, he pushes open the door and goes inside.  Cullen follows behind him.  Bull and Dorian are seated at a table inside.

Bull laughs and raises his glass.  “Hey!  You found it!  Have a seat!”

Cullen sits down next to Bull.  He watches Cole go through a door at the back of the room.  “Is this a restaurant?”

Dorian nods, “Typically, yes.  But out dear Inquisitor has rented it out for the night.”

Cole comes back out and nods to Bull before he sits down.

Bull claps Cullen on the back.  “Your gift is through there.”  Cullen stands and walks to the door.  He pushes it open and the rich smell of food hits his nose.  His mouth waters.  He walks further into the kitchen.  It bothers him slightly that there is no one in it.  Then he sees her.  Her back is to him and her hair is pulled up in a messy bun.  Her dark green dress brushes the floor and the sleeves are rolled up.  She is bent over in front of an oven.  She curses softly before standing.  She turns and smiles.

“Hi!”  There is flour on her face and on the apron that covers the front of her dress.  He rushes to close the distance.  His need to kiss her is too strong to resist.  He grabs her face and his lips crash into hers.  She smirks and settles into his kiss.  The sound of a pot boiling makes her gasp and pull away.  “Shit.”  She spins and furiously stirs the pot with a wooden spoon.

“Are you… cooking?”

She laughs, “I’m trying.  I’ve never done this on my own before.”

“Is all of this for me?”

She pulls the spoon out of the pot and blows on it.  She holds it over her hand and tastes it.  “As if you have to ask.  Happy Birthday, by the way.  Now come taste this.  I want to make sure I got it right.”

She holds the spoon out for him.  He places his lips on it and she tips the broth into his mouth.  His eyes close and he hums.  “Shea.  It’s perfect.”

“Really?!  Thank the Maker!”  She sticks the spoon back into the pot and turns to check the oven again.  She grabs a thick cloth of the counter and reaches inside.  She pulls out a loaf of bread.  It’s burnt.  “Well, shit.  Good thing I made two.” She turns to a different oven and opens it.  She pulls out another loaf of bread.  “Well, it’s a little overdone, but that’s alright.”

He is smiling from ear to ear.  Watching her buzz around, slicing the bread, stirring the stew, and setting bowls on trays.  The pooch that is her bump sticking out even more because of how tight the apron is tied.  He imagines that this is their kitchen and she is making dinner for their little family.  Tears of joy spring from his eyes as he watches her.  Her messy bun bobbing around as she moves back and forth from the large table to the stove and back again.  She smiles up at him as she slices cheese and sets them on a tray.  “It’s almost ready.  Are you ok?”

He walks over to her and stands behind her.  He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder, “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

She chuckles.  “And that makes you cry?”

“You have no idea how much all this means to me.  I’m just… so damn happy.”

She sets the knife in her hands down and turns in his arms.  “Well, it’s not over yet.  Now, go wash up.  Dinner’s almost ready.”  He kisses her and leaves the kitchen.  He dusts the flour of himself as he looks for the washroom.  He finds it off the main dining room.  He quickly washes his hands and goes back to the group to take his seat.

Dorian smiles over his wine, “Has she burned the place down yet?”

He chuckles, “No.  She’s doing surprisingly well.”

Bull smirks, “I hope it’s at least edible.  I’m starving.”

She comes through the door with the tray of bread and cheese.  The apron is gone and her hair flows down her back.  She sets it in the center of the table and steps back.  She crosses her arms over her chest and waits.  When none of them move, she says, “Don’t keep me in suspense boys.  How’d I do?”

Cullen grabs a slice of bread.  The steam rolls off of it.  He smells it and then takes a bite.  “Maker’s breath, Shea.”

“That bad?”

“No!  It’s… incredible.”  Her face lights up and she goes back into the kitchen.

Dorian eyes him, “Is it actually good or are you just saying that?”

Cullen shakes his head, “It’s quite dry.  But it tastes fine.  I’ve had worse.”

Cole shrugs, “That’s why there’s cheese.”  He reaches forward and puts a piece of cheese on the bread before pooping in his mouth. 

Dorian does the same.  “It think it’s supposed to be dry.  Almost like a cracker.”

They eat and they all come to the conclusion that she meant it to be like that.  She comes back in with two trays of steaming bowls.  She looks to be having trouble keeping them from spilling.  Cole quickly stands and takes a tray from her.  “Thank you, Cole.”

She hands out the bowls and puts one in front of the spot next to Cullen for herself.  She ducks in the kitchen to set the trays down.  Then she rushes back in and sits next to him.  She grabs a piece of bread and a slice of cheese.  She smells the bread and sighs.

“Something wrong, love?”

She shakes her head, “No.  The smell just reminds me of Ostwick.  This smell drifted in my bedroom window every morning.”

“Family recipe then?”

She laughs, “My family?  Cook?  Don’t be silly.  No, the elves made the bread.  So it must be one of theirs.”  He watches her pick the curst off before putting the cheese on it.

“Not a crust fan?”

“It’s a little over done.  The crust supposed to be a crunchy, but not hard.  But I’d say it’s not too bad for a first attempt.”

Dorian stirs the stew in front of him.  “What is this you are expecting us to eat?”

She chuckles, “It’s Cullen’s favorite.  Lamb stew.  They didn’t have peas or Fereldan lamb, so I had to improvise.  There’s carrots, potatoes, celery, lamb.  A few onion sprouts for flavor.  I’m not a big onion fan, so I went easy on those. Various seasonings.  I’m not completely sure if I got the broth right.  But I followed the recipe as best I could.  Please be honest if it’s good or not.  It won’t hurt my feelings.”  Cullen is again the first one to try it.  The lamb is cooked to perfection.  It practically melts in his mouth.  He takes another bite without even giving feedback.  She watches him carefully.  “Well?”

He leans over and kisses her cheek.  “This is better than they have at Skyhold.”  She beams at him.

“But is it how you remember it?”

“Remember it?”  He takes another spoonful into his mouth.

She smirks, “It’s your mother’s recipe.”

He nearly chokes.  He coughs and she rubs his back.  “Did you say my mother’s recipe?”  She nods happily.  “But how…?”

“I knew you were upset about having to delay our trip.  So, I thought I’d bring a little bit of family to you.”

“Yes, but how did you get it?  Mia keeps it under lock and key.  She treasures it.  Not a single person beside her knows what it is.”

She eats a few spoonfuls before responding.  “Well, now two people know it.  Granted it’s not quite the same.  As I said, I had to improvise.”

He turns in his chair to face her.  “Mia told you the recipe?”

“Yep.”

Cole scoots back from the table, “Anyone want more?”

Bull holds up his bowl and Cole takes it.  He carries both his and Bull’s bowl into the kitchen.  He comes back out carrying two steaming bowls of stew.  He hands Bull his bowl and then sits to continue devouring his food.  Shea couldn’t be happier in this moment.  Not only had she thoroughly surprised Cullen but people are actually eating and enjoying something she made.  Something she made without help or magic.  Even Dorian, who scoffs at Fereldan cuisine.

“I must hear this story.”  The mage smiles at them.  “A top secret family recipe given to a complete stranger.  How did that happen?”

Cullen jabs his thumb in Dorian’s direction, “What he said.”

She dabs her mouth with a napkin and turns in her chair to face him.  “I wrote her a letter like a normal person.”

“And she just gave it to you?”

She laughs.  “As a matter of fact, yes.  Yes, she did.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Bull leans forward, “What was in that letter?”

Shea takes his hand and fiddles with his fingers as she talks.  “When I made up my mind to celebrate your birthday after missing the last one, I knew I wanted to do something special.  Gifts are one thing, but I wanted something so deeply personal that it would mean more.  I got the idea to write Mia about it.  She probably knows you better than anyone, besides me, and I asked for her help.  More than that, I told her how much I love you, as much as simple words can express such a thing, and that I looked forward to calling her my sister someday.  Don’t worry, our visit, engagement, and coming child are still a secret.  But whatever I said made her want to give you the gift of a home cooked meal, because she said that you always asked for your mother to make stew instead of cake for your birthday.  She said that to this day, your family still makes this stew on your birthday even when you aren’t there.  So, right now, at this exact time, your family is also having this same meal.  Well, mostly.”

She can see the tears building in his ears.  “At this exact moment?”

She nods.  “Yep.  When I figured out this was actually happening, we worked out when best to do this.  I told her about Sky and we’ve been using her to organize this.  In fact, I have one more surprise for you here before we leave for the next one.”

He pulls her to his chest.  He hugs her tightly.  “This is the best gift… this is priceless.  Thank you.”

She tilts her head up and kisses him under his chin.  “It’s my pleasure.  You deserve to be this happy.  It’s as much as gift for me as it is for you.  Now, eat up.”

He finishes his stew and is about to ask for more when she takes his bowl away.  “Could I have more, love?” 

She looks over her shoulder.  “I don’t want you to get too full.  There is a… desert course.”

Bull, Dorian, and Cole stand.  Bull slurps down the rest of his bowl and the rest of Dorian’s too.  They all wish him Happy Birthday before they leave.  Cullen cleans off the table on goes into the kitchen.  “Desert huh?”

“Yes, but not here.  I’ve got one more thing to do here and then we can head to the next place.”

“Are we cleaning up in here?”

“The owner said I didn’t have to, but I think it’s the polite thing to do.”

“Then you sit and I’ll wash.”

“You shouldn’t have to work.  It’s your birthday.”

He chuckles, “In my house, the rules are that the person who cooks gets to relax while the people who ate the food clean up.”  He removes his cloak and hands it to her.  He unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves.  He motions to the sink, “A little help?”

She smirks and fills one side of the sink with water.  Then heats it.  He drops the bowls into the sink.  He takes a piece of cloth from the counter and wraps the leftover bread in it.  She has already trashed the burnt one or he would have kept it too.  He sticks his hands in the soapy water.  “Mia and I always jumped at the chance to help our mother cook.  It meant we didn’t have to clean.  Plus, we picked up a few skills along the way.”

Shea walks over to the pot on the stove.  She smiles brightly when she sees that it is empty.  She passes it to him and he begins washing it.  She watches him clean up her mess as he tells stories of his childhood.  A series of small pops alerts her to the arrival of his next gift.  “I’ll meet you in the dining room, when you’re done.”  She goes through the door and Sky is perched on the table.  A pink bow has been wrapped around her neck.  She smiles and scratches the bird’s head.  She fans out the envelopes on the table.  She sees one with her name on it and snatches it up.  She pulls the letter out and reads:

 

_Shea_

_I hope dinner was as good for you as it was for us.  Branson and Rosalie are washing up as we speak.  I’m sure Cullen is doing the same.  I don’t know about you but I smell a new tradition coming on.  That bread recipe you sent me was fantastic.  It went really well with the Rutherford stew._

_Let me just say, since I’ve been so focused on helping you make my brother happy that I have neglected to say this, that I desperately hope you both come to visit us.  I am dying to see and meet you.  We all are.  I know you are busy saving the world and all.  But I never thought my brother would find someone so perfect from him in all this chaos.  Or at all really._

_I know you’re busy making him happy right now, but please let me know how it went.  It’s been far too long since someone cared for him enough to do this for him. Also, make him write us more.  I am confident you have that power._

_Love_

_Mia_

Shea smiles and wipes the tears from her face.  She folds up the letter and puts it in her pocket.  She continues to arrange the letters over and over again.  _There’s only 5 of them.  It shouldn’t be this hard._   She hears the door open behind her and she spins around.  He spots Sky on the table behind her.  He reaches back into the kitchen and grabs a piece of bread.  He holds it out for the bird.  She eyes it.  He chuckles at the bow.  She takes it from him and sets it on the table.  She pecks at it. Then, realizing that it is food, she starts eating it.  He sees the letters on the table.  “What’s all this?”

“They are for you.  Obviously.  Seeing as your name is on all of them.”

“Who are they from?”

“Just open them.”

He sits in the chair and grabs one.  He opens it and sighs.  “It’s from Rosalie.”

She sits next to him and runs her fingers through his hair.  “And what does she say?”

“The usual.  Bitching about me not writing more.  That she misses me.  And she wishes me a very Happy Birthday.”  He sets it down and grabs the next one.  “This one’s from Krissy.  Branson’s wife.  I hear she is a very quiet woman.  How she and Branson got together I will never know.  She wishes me happy birthday and hopes to finally meet me someday.”

“You’ve never met her?”

He shakes his head.  “I was in Kirkwall when they got married.  And with everything going on, I couldn’t just leave for a personal matter.  I haven’t met my nephew either.”

He opens the next letter.  “Well that’s cute.”  He shows her.  The paper is covered in little scribbles.  “It kind of looks like a mabari.”

“Everything looks like a mabari to you.”

He points to the page excitedly.  “That clearly says ‘Cul’.  I’m certain of it.”

She smiles, “That it does.  What’s your nephew’s name?”

“Noah.  I think he’s almost three now.  Or he is three.”  She smiles.  He folds up the drawing and places it back in the envelope.  He recognizes Mia’s handwriting on the next envelope so he grabs the other one.  “This one is from Branson.  A lot of the same.  He misses me.  He wants to know if I still have the coin.  Happy Birthday.”  He scoffs, “He calls me an old man, even though he’s not that much younger than me.  So on and so forth.”

“So, that must be Mia’s.”

“Yep.”

“You seem worried.”

He nods, “She’s probably going to have some choice words to say about my continued absence and my inability to write letters.” He opens it and reads the lengthy letter.  She watches him with interest.  He ends up smiling before folding it up.

“Well?”

“There was a lecture.  And she demands that we come see her, or she’s uprooting the whole family and bringing them to Skyhold.  I believe she might actually do it.  She spends half of this singing your praises and she has most certainly guessed that we are romantically involved though neither of us said so outright.  She can already tell she’s going to like you.  The bow on Sky is Noah’s doing.  Apparently, they made friends.”

She laughs and reaches over to her bird.  She scratches her head.  “You don’t have to stick around.  We won’t be responding tonight.”  Sky picks up the rest of her bread and flies off through her rift.  “You ready?”

He looks over at her.  “Sure.  I can always read these over and over again later.”

She smiles.  She hands him his cloak and helps him gather the letters. He goes into the kitchen and grabs the bread he saved.  “Why are you keeping the bread?”

“I’m not.  I want to take it to the Chantry.  They usually give it to those in need.”

“Well, it’s on the way, so we can easily swing by.”  She takes his hand and leads him out the door.  She turns and locks the door behind her.  She then shoves the key under it.  “Don’t look at me like that.  It’s what they asked me to do.”

She takes his hand and walks with him down the street.  She feels like with all the running around she’s done in the past two days that she knows this city already.  She leads him right to the Chantry.  They step in and he approaches one of the sisters.  Shea hangs back by the door as to not draw attention to herself.  She has plans and doesn’t want to be dragged into being worshipped.  Especially not here.  She takes the bread and bows her head in thanks. Cullen turns and comes back to her.  He takes her hand and they go back into the street.

Her nerves have started to kick in.  She is worried as to what he might think of this last surprise.  She is convinced that he didn’t expect this to happen today.  Not when they had barely talked about and she hadn’t told him that he had agreed to it.  Or that she had even talked to him about it.  She leads him to the large building and pushes open the door.

To him, it just looks like a big house.  He sees the little bell by the door, but she pulls him forward and up the stairs.  She licks her lips and walks up them sideways.  “So… are you ready for your desert course?”

Her tone makes him shiver.  He can already feel his member responding to her.  The way she moves up the stairs ahead of him.  The way she licks her lips and then bites her lower one before speaking.  This is his opportunity to thank her for everything she has done for him.  Both tonight and in the past.   She is his gift and he hopes he feels that way for the rest of his life.

She gets to the very top of the stairs before leading them down a hallway.  There are only a few doors and each one has a number painted on them.  _It’s an inn_.  _Whomever owns this place has made it look very much like a house._   She stops in front of the very last door.  She leans against it.

She places her hand on the knob and makes a deep breath.  “After you.”  She turns the knob and opens the door.  He steps through.  Their eyes meet and he swallows hard.  There’s Dorian, sitting on a couch in the large sitting room, facing the door, and lick icing from his finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is nsfw. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	9. 3-Way (The Golden Rule)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut smut smut and nothing but smut. A whole chapter of it! I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, it gets quite kinky, so if you aren't into that feel free to skip this chapter.

Shea steps in and closes the door softly behind her.  She reaches behind her and pulls the bolt, locking the door.  Cullen is frozen in place.  His heart pounding in his ears.  He figured they would wait until they got back to Skyhold.  Or until she had had the baby.  Or at least let a few days pass.  The same day?  Not even a whole day since the tavern?  His is sweating instantly. 

She steps around him and joins Dorian on the couch.  He leans forward plucking a tiny cake from the tray and hands it to her.  “These are fantastic.  I’ve already had three.”

She nibbles at it while watching him process the scene in front of him.  The shock of how fast they are jumping into this is clear on his face.  She leans over and whispers to Dorian, “You think we broke him?”

“Give him a minute.  Finding out that an attractive _man_ is his part of his final gift is a lot to take in.”

“I could help him along.”

“If you think you can, go for it.”

She shoves the rest of her cake in her mouth and grabs other one.  She gets up off the couch and saunters over to him.  His eyes are shifting between her and Dorian.  She sticks her finger in the icing and runs it across his lower lip.  She presses up on her toes and licks it off.  His hands grab her hips and his lips presses hard against hers.  She smirks and pulls back a little.  “Are you back with us?”

“I… uh… this is sudden.”

She chuckles, “Strike while the iron’s hot, right?”  She offers him the cake.  “We don’t have to start right away.  There’s cake and wine.  We can talk for a while.  Relax.  Just have a good time.  See where it goes.”

He takes it.  “I think I can manage that.”

He follows her to the sitting area and sits across from Dorian.  Shea sits next to the mage and pours three glasses of wine.  She holds one out for Cullen and he takes it.  He downs the whole thing before popping the cake into his mouth.  She chuckles and refills his glass.  She pulls her feet into the seat and unlaces her boots.  She pulls them off along with her socks, she shoves the socks in the boots, and sets them aside.

She smiles at him, “Have you enjoyed your birthday so far?”

He nods.  Happy for the distraction, “Absolutely.  It’s the best one I’ve ever had.  Granted I think that last time I actually celebrated it was before I left home.”

Dorian scoffs, “Well, that’s depressing.  Glad Shea could break that mold for you.”

She looks over at Dorian, “You helped a great deal. You should take some credit.”

“Fine.  I will.  Pats on the back all around.”

Cullen removes his cloak and lays it over the back of the couch.  “Sorry.  I know we’re supposed to be relaxing and chatting, but… how does this work exactly?”

Dorian leans forward, “That’s entirely up to you.  This was technically your idea, though our darling Inquisitor set it up.  We both agree that we’ll only do what you are comfortable with.  If that means, that I’m just an observer, so be it.  Though I will admit to being a little disappointed.”

Cullen takes a sip of his wine and sets it down.  He crooks his finger at Shea.  She gets ups and moves to sit next to him.  He presses his lips against her ear.  “How would you like to begin?  I’m not sure I can start this.”

“We don’t have to…”

“I think we do.  Or at least one of us does.  You seem more ready than me.  So… you should start.”

She leans back to look him in the eye.  He’s nervous, that much is evident.  Yet there is also desire there.  He really does want something to happen, but she can tell he doesn’t know what that something is yet.  She kisses him lightly and scoots away.  “I’m yours to control, Commander.”

His cock twitches at her use of his title.  He smirks.  He leans forward to pick up his wine glass.  He sips it and settles back on the couch.  “Go sit next to him.”  She gets up and plops down next to Dorian.  A chill runs through Dorian when hears the timber of his voice.  Deep and dominating.

He holds up on finger, “Am I to be commanded as well?”

Cullen smirks at him, “Do you need me to command you?”

Shea bites her lip.  Dorian shakes his head.  “Not yet.”

“What is it you wish to do then, Master Pavus?”

Dorian’s breathe hitches in his chest.  That voice, addressing him like that, makes him hunger for the Commander.  He sips his wine holding Cullen’s eye contact.  “I’m am open to options, Ser Rutherford.  What is it you wish her to do?”

They both look over at her.  She squirms in her seat.  Her chest rises and falls rapidly in anticipation for his command.  “Kiss him.”  She takes the wine glass out of Dorian’s hand and sets it on the table.  She places her hand on his jaw.  He can feel her trembling.  He wraps his arm around her and pulls her in close.  Remembering how it felt to kiss him before, she closes the distance.  Their lips meet and begin smacking together.  She grips the front of his silky shirt and the other slides up his jaw and comes to rest on the back of his neck.

Cullen never thought watching her passionately kiss another man would turn him on.  He always thought he’s be furious like he was when it came to Hawke.  Yet there she is, her tongue and lips dancing with his, and he could feel his erection growing.  He wants her to do more.  He opens his mouth to issue a command.

Dorian leans into Shea and she ends up on her back with him on top of her.  Cullen closes his mouth and sips his wine.  Content to just watch where this goes.

Shea squirms beneath the mage’s weight.  His lips trail along her jaw and down her neck.  Soft moans slip through her lips.  She grabs the straps on his shoulder.  She feels him smirk against her neck.  He nibbles on her ear, “Making you squirm like this is quite fun.”

“Master Pavus?”

Dorian looks over at him.  “Ser Rutherford?”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious as to what she has on under that dress?”

Dorian smirks down at Shea.  She bites her lip.  “That I am.”

He sits back of the couch and she sits up.  Cullen makes eye contact with her.  He points to a spot halfway between them.  “Go on.  Show us.”

She stands up off the couch and goes to where he pointed.  Her eyes trace her fiancé.  The sizable bulge in his pants lets her know that his enjoying this as much as she is.  She pulls the strings on the sides of her dress and loosens them.  She slides her hands down her sides.  She slowly bunches the bottom part of the dress up inch by inch.  Like the curtain on a stage.  Her pale legs slowly appear as she hikes to the skirt.  She then pulls the whole thing over her head and lets it fall to the floor.  Suddenly feeling self-conscious with a new set of eyes staring at her, she goes to cover herself.

Cullen waggles his finger at her.  “Ah ah ah.  No one said you could hide yourself.  Hands at your side.”  She lowers her hands to her sides and grabs her thighs to keep them in place.  Cullen looks over at Dorian, “Thoughts?”

“Never thought I’d be so turned on by the female form.  It makes me wonder if her skin is as soft as it looks.”

She feels like a piece of meat on display.  Normally, she’d hate that, but seeing the lust in their eyes as they scan her makes warmth and wetness pool between her thighs.  Cullen motions his hand towards her.  “Be my guest.”

This batter they have going is making all three of them aroused.  It is like they were both commanding her to do whatever they want.  Dorian slides off the couch and saunters over to her.  He walks around her one complete time and then continues his path to stop behind her.  His hand slides around her side.  It trails up the scar on her ribs and she closes her eyes.  He brushes her hair to the side and presses his nose against her neck.  He inhales deeply as his hand caress her skin, teasing the edges of her undergarments.

Dorian watches him stand.  The bulge in the Commander’s pants causing him pain as it pushes hard against the leather.  Two little taps on her side make her open her eyes.  They both watch him remove his belt.  He feels her move forward but holds her still.  She whimpers wanting to help him remove every last stich of clothing, but knowing his last command is what rooted her in place.  Her mouths waters for him.  Dorian steps closer to her and his arousal presses against her backside.  She inhales sharply.  Her hips shift and he moans.

This catches Cullen attention as he starts to pull off his shirt.  He stops undressing and hooks his finger at them.  “Come over here.”  They move towards him.  Shea ends up being sandwiched between them.  Her hands move automatically to Cullen’s shirt.  Her head swims to over powering scent of men and she leans her head back against Dorian.  She lets out breathy sighs as Dorian resumes kissing her neck.

“Shea.”  She opens her eyes and meets his golden gaze.  “Undress Master Pavus.”  Dorian looks up at him.  Shea turns between them.  Cullen’s rough fingers graze her skin.  She reaches up to Dorian with trembling hands.  There are so many buckles.  Where does she even start?  Dorian takes her hand and places it on his shoulder.  She can’t concentrate.  Her fingers fumble with the buckles and both men chuckle.

“Maybe our Lady Inquisitor should undress you instead.  My ensemble seems a little complicated for her.”

She sighs and closes her eyes.  She centers herself and opens her eyes.  Her hands move with purpose.  Unbuckling every strap she sees.   He helps her with the process.  The top part of his outfit falls away.  His chest is just as tanned as the rest of him.  Rich brown skin stretched over lean muscles with not a hair in sight. Cullen and Shea reach out at the same time to run their hands down his chest.  His muscles flex under their touch.  He reaches around Shea and grabs the ends of Cullen’s shirt.  He pulls it over his head and tosses it on the floor.  She fumbles with Dorians pants.  The buckles and buttons making it very difficult.  They look down at her when she chuckles.  “How many articles of clothing have you lost to Bull when he just rips them from you?”

He bites his lip looking down at her while she struggles, “More than I’d like.  My clothes aren’t exactly cheap.”

She growls at the complicated process of removing his pants.  Cullen backs away for a moment to remove his boots and then walks around behind Dorian.  The mage gasps as he feels Cullen press himself against his back.  Cullen’s hand join Shea’s to assist her.  Once they are loose, he bends down and removes Dorian’s boots.  Shea smirks as she parts the front of his pants.  Thick dark curls greet her.  She looks at Cullen over Dorian’s shoulder.  She hooks her thumbs in his waist band and slowly pushes his pants down his legs.  Cullen steps back.  He was expecting one more layer.  He doesn’t feel ready to see him naked yet.  Or maybe he just isn’t ready to fuck him.  He walks around them as he unbuttons his own pants.

Shea’s eyes follow him as he circles.  She wishes she could read his mind.  His nerves have returned, cutting through his confident commander routine.  Despite wanting to check in with him, make sure he is still ok with this, she wants to see all of Dorian.  She runs her hand down the mage’s firm ass as she continues to work his tight pants down his legs.  Finally he springs free.  Having seen only one penis in her whole life, the sight of his standing tall right in front of her face makes her sweat.  She looks up at him as he steps out of the last of his clothes.  The first one to be completely nude.  Shea smirks as he makes eye contact with her.  She runs her hands up his thighs, feeling the soft leg hair pass under her fingers.  She looks back at Cullen.

He has returned to the couch in nothing but his smalls.  He runs his fingers through his hair and licks his lips.  The mischievous look in her eye makes his skin tingle.  He just nods for her to continue, the words stuck in his throat.  She looks back put at Dorian.  She leans up and kisses his hips.  His length resting on her chest.  She kisses up his chest until she is standing.  She wraps her arm around him and turns with him so that his back his to Cullen.  She backs him up, kissing him with fire and hunger running through her veins.  He threads his fingers in her hair as she backs him up.  His legs meet the couch and he sits down next to Cullen.  She kisses his neck and he moans.  His head falls back to rest on the back of the couch.  She wraps her hand around him.  She notes that he is not fully hard yet.

She caresses his length as she works her way down.  Cullen is watching with the rapt attention.  A mixture of desire and jealousy runs through him.  He wants to watch her take Dorian into her mouth, but he wants her to do it him more.  Soft moans are escaping Dorian.  He’s not used to the delicate touches she is giving him.  He and Bull fucked like wild animals.  Cullen looks over him.  His eyes are closed and his hands are limp at his sides.  Feeling rush of boldness, he takes Dorian’s hand.

The mage opens his eyes and looks over at him.  Cullen looks down at himself and then back into his steely gray eyes.  Shea sits back to watch the exchange as she pumps him with her hand.  Cullen places Dorian’s hand on his chest and starts sliding it down.  That mage’s eyes go wide and he eagerly takes control.  He runs his hand all the way down and strokes the former templar over his smalls.  Cullen leans his head back and moans.  She feels Dorian’s cock twitch in her hand.  She tears her eyes away from their action and returns to her task.  She kisses the tip of him and he gasps.  Then she licks the length of him.  His hand tightens around Cullen and they both moan. 

Cullen needs more contact than this.  He lifts his hips and removes his smalls. Dorian’s hand instantly wraps around him and squeezes.  Cullen’s eyes shift between the attention Dorian is paying to him and to Shea.  She makes eye contact with him and smirks.  She drives Dorian between her lips.  Dorian’s grip loosens on Cullen.  The feel of the inside of her mouth consuming his focus.  Cullen smirks.  He isn’t even remotely upset that he stopped.  He knows how good she is at that.  So, he’ll do it himself.   He grabs himself and works his shift, grazing his tip with his thumb.

Dorian grabs the back of her head while she pulls and sucks him.  Cullen reaches over and pushes her head down and he slides down her throat.  A loud moan escapes Dorian.  “Kaffas!”  Cullen releases her and she pulls him out of her mouth gasping for air.  Dorian pulls her off the floor and into his lap.  He kisses her, his tongue darting into her mouth to taste himself on her.

Cullen smirks, “Finished that quickly, Master Pavus?”

Dorian shakes his head, “Not by a long shot, Ser Rutherford.”

Shea is starting to feel a little left out.  She grinds against Dorian and he moans.  Cullen laughs.  “I think she’s trying to tell you something.”

She stands and takes their hands.   She pulls them off the couch and leads them into the bedroom.  The large bed takes up most of the space.  She releases them as she crosses the threshold.  They stand in the doorway and watch her hips sway as she walks over the bed.  She sits down and makes eye contact with Dorian, “Are you ready?”  He nods but doesn’t move.  Cullen shoves him forward.

He stands in front her.  He has no idea what he’s doing.  He has no idea even where to begin.  He watches her hands untie her breast band.  When it falls away, his hand reaches forward the caress the soft skin.  She moans at his touch.  His other hand joins the party.  Massaging, squeezing, caressing.  He brings his thumb across her nipple and her back arches.  Cullen comes to stand beside him.  He grabs his shoulder and leans in.  “Do what I do.”

Cullen climbs on to the bed and sits behind Shea.  She leans her head back against him.  His hand replaces one of Dorian’s.  He expertly plays with her breast.  Flicking his thumb over her hardened peaks, pinching and twisting them between his fingers.  Soft moans and sighs flow past her lips.  Dorian copies what Cullen just showed him.  Her moans grow louder.  She can feel the difference between their fingers.  One rough, one soft.  One confident, the other less so.  Cullen kisses her neck.  He nips, licks, and sucks.  Dorian steps closer to her with her legs on either side of him, and does the same to the other side.  Her senses overload.  She closes her eyes and her body tenses.  Her breathing becomes shallow.  Her noises no more than breathy pants.

Cullen taps Dorian with his free hand.  The mage looks up at him.  He points to his mouth and then to her breast.  Dorian nods.  He brushes his lips down her neck, across her collarbone, and she gasps as he flicks his tongue on her nipple.  He nips, flicks, licks, teasing her.  When he finally advances to sucking, her legs squeeze his hips.  A cry bursts from her as she is driven wild.  Two waves rush back to back as they continue to fondle her chest.  Her breathe gets caught in her throat and her mouth hangs open in a soundless cry.  Dorian chuckles, “My, my.  And we haven’t even gotten to the good stuff.”

She sighs as the aftershocks fade.  Cullen kisses the side of her face.  She turns her head and kisses him.  He scoots back and lays her down.  He stands next to Dorian. They stare down at her as she pants on the bed.  Cullen looks over at him, “How brave are you feeling?”

“I suppose that depends on what you have in mind.”

Cullen steps forward and pulls her smalls off.  He spreads her legs and steps back.  “She is ready if you just want to… though personally I like to make her beg for it.”  She whimpers and bites her lip.  Cullen chuckles.  “Though it would seem she’s already at the point.”

“What would you do?”

“Watch and learn.”  He steps forward and pulls her to the edge of the bed.  He kneels down and puts her legs over his shoulders.  She whimpers before he does anything.  Dorian stands right behind Cullen and peers down.  She looks up at Dorian.  Cullen runs his tongue flat up her folds.  She moans and closes her eyes.  Dorian watches a master at work.  He thinks that if Cullen were a painter, she would be his canvass and his tongue would be his brush.  She grabs the back of his head with one hand and grips the blanket with the other.  Her moans are constant.  After showing Dorian the basics, he stops.  She groans.  Cullen stands wiping his chin and licking his lips.  “You up for trying that?”

“I’m not that brave.  Not yet anyway.  Maybe I can… clean her up after.”  She almost comes at the mere thought of his words.

She stares into Cullen’s eyes.  She’s ready.  He can tell.  If they want to hold onto the power, they are going to need to take her now.  She squirms anxiously waiting for one of them to make a move.  She props herself up on her elbows.  “Any day now.”

Dorian surges forward.  She scoots back on the bed as he charges her.  She barely has time to settle back down before he descends on her.  His lips moving against hers like a wild fire.  She throws her arms around him, pressing her palms into his back.  Cullen watches Dorian sheath himself deep inside her.  She moans loudly.  He is not gentle with her.  She had already told him not to be.  Cullen steps forward to make him ease up, but his eyes find hers.  She licks her lips and reaches for him.  He kneels on the bed next to her head.  She turns her head to the side and wraps her hand around his cock.  He moans.  She licks her lips and opens her mouth.

He moves in as close as he can.  She takes him into her mouth.  She licks and sucks him as Dorian fucks her.  Her moans and hums set the blood in his veins on fire.  He thrusts into her mouth with his head back and eyes closed.  A second mouth joins hers.  He looks down as Dorian licks and kisses his cock and his tip gets sucked on by her.  He exhales in a huff and runs his fingers through his hair.  His moans are deep and guttural.  Cullen’s eyes can’t even take in everything that is happening at once. Theirs mouths working to devour him.  Dorian’s wild thrusts into her. Her moans turning into screams of pleasure.  Her finger nails dig into Dorian’s back and Cullen’s thigh.  Her body shutters and her walls close around Dorian’s member.  He moans at the sensation of her coming around him.  Cullen wants that.  He needs that.

But she is otherwise engaged.  But he isn’t.  “Hey… uh… Dorian?”

The mage looks up at him.  “Yes?”

Shea can hear the uncertainty it his voice.  She pushes up on Dorian and he sits back on his knees.  “How does one… go about…?”  He rubs his neck.

Shea sits up.  “Maybe you should try that on me first.”

He looks at her.  “Are you sure?  Is that safe?”

“It’ll be fine.  He can show you what to do.”

Dorian crawls backwards off the bed and goes into the sitting room.  She touches his face and kisses him.  “Shea, we don’t have to…”

“What was the activity you thought of that convinced you to do this?”

“The both of us… filling you.”

“Well, that seems to be about to happen.  But you need to learn what to do first.  I know you’re worried about hurting me.  We have someone here who can teach you the proper way to do it so that doesn’t happen.”

Dorian comes back in holding two bottles.  “Alright.   Before this gets too crazy, I need to let you both know something Bull told me.  Never go from back to front on her.  That can cause all kinds of problems.  That said…”  He kneels on the bed next to Shea.  He holds up a bottle containing a vicious yellow liquid.  “This is sweet almond oil. And this other one is to clean yourself off afterwards.  I need you on all fours, dear.”  Shea does as she’s instructed.  He places his hand on the small of her back, “Your only job is to relax and breathe.  If this hurts you, let us know.”

Dorian leads Cullen behind her.  His instructions are nothing more than murmurs.  Shea closes her eyes.  Though it was her idea, she is terrified that it’s going to hurt.  She has never even been touched their before and her heart pounds.  Cool liquid spills onto the cleft of her ass and drips down.  Dorian takes Cullen’s hand.  He runs Cullen’s finger between her cheeks coating it in oil.  He presses on the knot of flesh and she flinches.  Dorian rubs the small of her back, encouraging her to relax.  Cullen finger slides into the tight ring.  She moans and her arms collapse.  She buries her face into the pillow.  He stops at the first ridge and lets her get used to the foreign sensation.  He feels her relax around his finger and pushes in further.  She gasps and squirms.  After another moments pause, he pushes his finger the rest of the way in.

He exhales.  _Maker this is tight.  Will I even fit?_   Dorian moves Cullen finger in and out of her tight hole.  She moans.  There is pain, but she likes it.  Dorian murmurs something to Cullen.  She is too consumed by the feeling of his finger that she can’t make it out.

Dorian pours a little of the oil on Cullen’s now throbbing cock and rubs it all over him.  His hand gliding over the length of him.  “Alright, Chantry boy. You know what to do.”  Cullen slowly removes his finger from her.  He moves behind her.  She feels him run his slick tip along the length of her underside.  She licks her lip and squeezes her eyes closed.  He tries to go slow, like he did with his finger.  But he slips in further than he anticipated.  She cries out and he freezes.

She pants as he sits there, his cock halfway inside her.  “Oh Cullen.  Don’t stop.”

He drives himself in to the hilt.  She cries out again.  “Maker’s breath.  You’re so tight.”

He slowly rotates his hips and she moans loudly.  He thrusts slowly in and out warming her up.  He slowly increases his speed until skin flaps against skin.  He takes his fiancé’s virgin ass with gusto.  Slamming into her as she screams in a mix of pleasure and pain.  Dorian reaches between her legs and rubs her clit.  She orgasms instantly.  She squeezes Cullen and he lets a rumble free for his chest.  Dorian watches Cullen’s face as he slams into Shea.  He wonders if Cullen would let him do this to his ass.  He shakes the thought from his mind.  Cullen is doing well, but Dorian doesn’t think he is anywhere close to being ready to actually fuck or be fucked by a man. 

Dorian sits up and whispers to him, “Think she’s ready for the next part?” Cullen pulls out of her completely.  She looks back and Dorian smirks at her. Cullen lifts her up and Dorian lays on this back beneath her.  Cullen lines up Dorian to her entrance and lowers her down on him.  He makes her ride him for a few minutes.  Then pushes her forward.  Dorian wraps his arm around her chest and digs his nail into her back.  Her heads swims as she releases that his fantasy is coming true.  She moans and grinds against Dorian.  He grips her tighter hold her still.  Cullen lines himself up and slowly pushes into her pink knot.  She cries out.  The level of pain and pleasure she is feeling makes her vision go white.  Cullen hilts himself and stops moving.  Dorian thrusts up and then Cullen follows.  She grabs the pillow under Dorian’s head and screams.

He’s has never heard her make these noises.  If she wasn’t saying, “Yeah,” when she had enough breath to, he would think this is hurting her.  And he almost doesn’t care.  Her already tight ass is even tighter with Dorian inside her too.  He can feel their cocks pumping and thrusting.  Her brain has shut off completely.  She is too overwhelmed.  She loses count of how many times she cums during this.  She can’t breathe and eventually her screams are stopped short in her throat.  One wave crashes in after another.  Both men are close.  But Dorian wants to taste Cullen’s seed almost as much as he wanta to taste his mixed with her delicious flavor.

He pulls Shea down against him as that he can look at Cullen over her shoulder.  Cullen has seen the hunger in the mage’s eyes in Shea’s more times than he can count.  He pulls out of her and crawls up the bed to him.  Dorian flips Shea over and continues plowing into her.  Her eyes flutter open.  Cullen reaches of the bottle to clean himself but doesn’t get it before Dorian takes his length into his mouth.  It doesn’t take long at all for his muscles to tighten.  He holds his breathe and grips Dorian’s head with both hands.  From her position, she can see everything, both of their faces and all the signs that Cullen just came.  Dorian squeezes every last drop from Cullen.  When he slides him out, Shea grabs his face and kisses him.  She can taste his seed in Dorian’s mouth.  She moans.  Dorian spits a little of it into her mouth.  Cullen sees this and moans, he falls back on the bed.  His system finally overloading.

Shea feels Dorian tense under her hands as they kiss.  She wraps her legs around his waist.  She thrusts along with him.  She cries out and every muscle in her body folds around him.  He cries her name and fills her.  Spasms rock his body and he collapses on top of her.  Thinking he’s done, she caresses his face.  He smirks and kisses down her body. Cullen rolls to her.  He caresses her face and pushes the hair off her face.   She gasps as Dorian tongue makes contact.  Licking from her tender knot all the way to her swollen nub. He is being very gentle. And he isn’t trying to get her off, he laps up their juices, cleaning her as much as he can.  When he’s done, he sits back on his knees.  His moustache, lips, and chin glisten and drip.  Cullen sits up and grabs the back of his neck.  Their lips meet over Shea and she moans.  The sight of tongues and lips smacking and rubbing together sends her over the edge without anyone even touching her.

The men collapse on either side of her.  All three of them just staring at the ceiling.  The only sound in the room is their heavy breathing and her moans as the occasional aftershock flows through her.  Cullen rolls onto his side and pushes her wet hair from her face.  She weakly smiles with her eyes closed.  “I think we broke her.”

Dorian laughs and rolls onto his side.  “It appears that way.”

She softly chuckles and mumbles, “Broken in the best of ways.”

Dorian traces her jaw, “You will be terribly sore tomorrow.  I suggest staying here for at least one more day.  That last thing you’re going to want to do is sit on a horse for hours on end.”  She groans.  “Though I’m sure that’s not anything new for you.  Especially after your first time together.”

She sighs.  Her high fades away at the reminder as to why it didn’t hurt.  Cullen traces her scars sensing her change in attitude.  Face, ribs, stomach, arm, thigh, and repeat.  Dorian watches this.  “Why do you do that?  I thought she hated her scars and you’re highlighting them?”

Cullen nods, “She doesn’t like how she got them, but she has come to accept them.  Doing this… helps calm her when… her past comes creeping up.”

“The fade memory?”

Cullen nods.  “It’s taken a lot of effort and time, but this helps her clear her head.”

She pats his hand.  Her mind is clear again.  She sits up slowly.  Her muscles are already starting to become stiff.  “Anyone want cake?”

They laugh and Cullen makes her lay back down.  He kisses her nose.  “You stay.  I’ll get it.”

He rolls off the bed and Dorian watches his ass flex as he walks.  “Bring the wine too.”  Cullen laughs as he gathers everything.  Clothes are everywhere.  He hopes they will be able to find everything when it comes time to dress again.  Dorian is leaning against the headboard running his fingers through Shea’s tangled hair when he comes back in.  He hands Dorian a glass and sets the tray of cakes on the bed.  He chuckles.  “The innkeeper is going to have one hell of a time washing this.”

Dorian holds out his glass to let Cullen pour the wine in.  “Especially if we build up enough strength for round two.”

Shea chuckles, “I’m not sure I can survive another round.”

Dorian winks at Cullen, “Who says you need to be involved?  You’ve had your turn.”

It is odd that the wink doesn’t bother him as it used to.  Though he supposes he shouldn’t too surprised after the experience he just had.  He begins to wonder what people back at Skyhold will think when Dorian continues his advances on him and he provides a very different response then eye rolling and scoffing.  Shea touches his face, breaking him out of his thoughts, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about how comfortable this feels right now and how do we go back to acting like Dorian hasn’t won?”

“What have I won exactly?”

Cullen smirks his signature grin.  She runs her finger down his scar as it lifts.  “Well, all of your advances and flirtations seem to have paid off in the long run.  And I’m wondering how we make it seem like we have the same batter as before?”

Dorian chuckles, “Ah.  Yes.  How do we pretend that I haven’t fucked your woman or that I’ve had your cock in my mouth?”

Shea can hear the hint of somberness in his voice.  They’ve had a discussion about his desire not to hide who he is.  She reaches up and smooths out his ruffled moustache.  “Let them talk.  They already do.  Mother Giselle already thinks you’re a bad influence on me.  Little does she know it’s the former templar who is the one she should have been worried about.  I’m already the center of worldwide gossip.”

Cullen looks up at Dorian.  “I’m not trying to insult you here.  And I get the feeling I have.  But you both know that I enjoy keeping things to myself.  What I’m saying is that I don’t think I can go back to brushing you off as I did before.  I would… it wouldn’t feel right to pretend that I’m not interested anymore.  This is new for me.  I’ve never…”

“Been attracted to a man?”

“Exactly.  I don’t know where my mind is right now.”

She smiles at him, “Then stop thinking about it.  This has happened and it seems that we’re all closer for it.  No one is suggesting that the three of us shack up.”

Dorian nods, “It’s just a bit of fun between friends.  No one is asking you to change who you are.  The flirtation can just be a game we play.  I flirt with you, you blow me off, and then this cat and mouse game can lead us into the Inquisitor’s bed.”

Cullen smirks, “That might be fun actually.”

“See.  Nothing to worry about.”

Shea sits up again and hisses as her muscles protest.  She bats their hands away.  “Leave me be.  If you had, set the cake closer I wouldn’t have to move.”  She grabs a few of the tiny cakes and lays back down.  Cullen smirks.  He leans down and grabs two cakes.  He sets one of each of her breasts.

He motions, “Would you like desert, Master Pavus?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

At the same time, they take the cakes and her nipples in their mouths.  She moans and squirms.  They laugh and lay back once they clean all the icing off her chest.  She giggles and them smashes one of the cakes in her hands on Cullen’s chest.  He groans as she smears it down his chest and stomach.  She looks at Dorian over her shoulder, “Master Pavus?”

He climbs over her and starts licking the cake and icing off of him.  Cullen moans and closes his eyes.  She digs her finger into a cake and scrapes the icing off.  She pops the cake in her mouth and quickly eats it.  She rolls over and rubs the icing on his neck and face.  She then proceeds to lick it off of him.  And with that round two begins.  Dorian looks down to see that he is becoming aroused again.  He palms Cullen’s growing erection and encourages its growth as he continues to clean cake and icing out of his chest hair.  Shea feels his pulse increase under her lips.

Dorian sits back on his knees once the cake is gone and admires the sculpted and scarred body in front of him.  His hand pumps and Cullen’s member is soon firm and getting thicker by the second.  Shea lays on her side next to him.  His forehead glistens with sweat.  She presses her lips again his ear.  “Are you ready for your orders, Commander?”

He moans.  He loves when she does this.  It makes it hard to focus in war meetings for a few days after, but he would do anything the Inquisitor told him to do.  “Yes, Inquisitor.”

Dorian looks up at her.  She flashes him a devilish grin.  “And are you willing to follow my orders, Master Pavus?”  His breath catches in his throat.  She always asked him to do things politely or if she had that voice it was because of the situation called for it.  He looks at Cullen.  His eyes are begging him to say yes.

“As you wish, Inquisitor.”

She smiles.  “Then bring the Commander to full mast, Master Pavus.”

“Oh, that I can do.”  His hand moves with renewed interest and bends forward to tease with his tongue.  Cullen moans and shifts under his firm grasp.  Dorian surrounds him with his mouth.  Sucking hard and deep.  Shea summons magic into her fingers and rakes them across his chest.  He moans loudly and bucks his hips up.  Dorian chokes on him as his full length rams down his throat.  He sits up gasping for air wiping the spit from his face.  Shea smirks.

“Commander, it’s not polite to leave our guest unattended.”  He looks up at her.  “You should return the favor.”

“Shea… I…”

“Then I guess that’s up to me then.”

She straddles Cullen with her back to him.  She leans forward and takes grabs hold of Dorian’s pulsing cock.  She twists her hand up and down his length.  Cullen grabs Shea’s ass.  He gently separates her cheeks.  He admires the view before him.  Her folds are wet and raw from their previous actions.  He grabs her hips and pulls her towards his face.  He buries his face between her legs.  She moans.  She grabs him with her other hand.  Working the both of them.

Dorian looks down at her, “Shea, darling.  You asked Cullen earlier what he imagined when he thought of this, but what about you?”

She looks at him.  She moans as Cullen increases his attention to her clit.  “I… wanted to… Oh Maker…”

“Commander, would you mind pausing for a moment.  I’ve asked our leader a question.”  He groans and lays his head down on the pillow.  “You wanted to…”

“I wanted… to get fucked while he fucked you.”

“I’d be willing to make that happen for you.  But he has to be willing.  He seems to be a little skittish.”

Cullen pushes her aside.  “Are you calling me a coward?”

“If I am?  What would you do?”

Cullen looks at Shea.  “Hand me that oil.”

Shivers travel through both Dorian and Shea at his tone.   She finds the oil and hands it to him.  “Anyone have any idea on the best way to do this?”

“I’m amending your fantasy a little bit.”

Her heart flutters, “Oh?”

He grabs Dorian’s hand and places the oil in it.  He pounces on her.  She gasps as she falls onto her back.  He drives himself deep inside her and she cries out.  He pushes her knees to her chest.  She moans loudly as he slams into her.  He looks over his shoulder at Dorian, who is just staring at his ass.  “Well?”

“Hold on.  You want me to…”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t even touch… are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

Shea grabs his face.  She can’t speak because even during this conversation he hasn’t stopped his thrusts.  She forces him to look at her.  He slows his pace seeing that she wants to speak.  “Cullen… you don’t have to… I know you don’t… want that…”

“I won’t be called a coward.”

She sighs and pushes against him.  “Sweetheart, he was teasing you.”  He sits up with her in his arms.  “Neither of us think you’re a coward.  So, you aren’t ready to touch another’s man dick.  That’s doesn’t make you a coward.”

“She’s right.  I don’t want to force you into anything you will regret later.”

Cullen sighs.  He’s both relieved and disappointed.  He had resolved himself to let Dorian fuck him, but they were right.  He was not ready for that.  She caresses his face.  “Are you alright?”

“Yes.  I’m sorry.  I got a little carried away.”

“We could still continue with what we’re doing.  I do have another idea.”

He cocks his eyebrow.  “And what is that exactly?”

She rolls out of his arms and stands up on the bed.  She walks over to Dorian.  “Oil me up, Master Pavus.”

He smirks, “I think I like where this is going.”  She turns her back to him and he pours oil in his hands.  He rubs her down.  She does down on her knees and bends forward to give him better access.  She hears him chuckle as his finger traces the outside of her inflamed knot.  “You are going to hate yourself tomorrow.”  He slides his fingers easily inside her and she moans.  He spreads oil on himself.  He removes his finger.  “Ready, dear?”

She stands and hovers above him.  She tries to focus on being relaxed.  Cullen moves to her.  He hooks his arms under her legs and grabs her ass.  He then lifts her.  She wraps her arms around his neck.  He kisses and lowers her onto Dorian’s slick and waiting member.  The pain is worse this time somehow.  She cries out and her arms tense around his neck.  She grinds her hips to alleviate the pain of his entry.  He moans.  Cullen sets her down and causes Dorian to hilt himself in her. Both of them moan.  Dorian reaches around her and pulls her back the lay on his chest.  He thrust and grinds against her.

Cullen pushes her knees towards her chest again.  He watches Dorian move slightly in and out for a moment.  He straddles Dorian’s leg and lines himself up.  She bites her lip.  Dorian grabs her breasts as Cullen slides himself all the way in.  She screams out.  Both of their movements are slow to let her adjust to both of them.  She reaches up to Cullen and claws his chest.  He roars at the pain.  He slams into her.  Dorian takes the cue and his rapid thrusting resumes as well.  Her cries are very loud and come right after the other.  Cullen leans forward to press her knees back further.  She grabs his arms and digs her nails in.

They continue their pounding for a good long while.  She screams have quieted to breathless panting.  Her occasional spasms and tensing walls are the one of the only things that let them know she is still enjoying herself.  Cullen will make eye contact with her when her eyes occasionally open to make sure she’s ok.  Sometimes he’ll mouth the words and she just nods.  She doesn’t even feel like an active participant anymore.  Her body is spent, but they aren’t done with her yet.  Her pleasure sensors are overloaded.  She is soaking them with her near constant orgasms.  Each one causing a shattered moan to roll from her.  Dorian’s cry rings in her ear as he makes one final upward thrust.  He squeezes her breast to the point where it causes her pain.  They were tender as it was and now they hurt.

Yet she can’t find the strength and will to protest.  She doesn’t know where her arms or hands are.  Her limbs feel like they are going numb or melting into their flesh.  She feels like she being absorbed by them.  Cullen his body tenses and she feels him thrust deep and come hard.  He cries out and slumps on top of them.  She shakes between them. 

Cullen removes himself and pulls her towards him.  She lazily wraps her arms around his neck.  He lifts her off Dorian.  The mage rolls to the side and Cullen sets her down.  She hugs him and stays seated in his embrace.  Dorian sits next to her and brushes the hair out of her face.  She is thoroughly flushed and her skin is dripping with sweat.  They study her face.

“Are you alright, love?”

She nods and her breathing still quite rapid.

Dorian runs his fingers through her wet and matted her.  He starts braiding it.  “Are you sure, my dear?  You don’t seem to be holding up to well.”

She holds up one finger and lets it drop.  Cullen lifts her chin and looks into her eyes.  A tiny smile pulls at the corner of her mouth.  He smirks, “She’s fine.  Poor thing’s worn out though.”

Dorian laughs, “I imagine so.”

“I highly doubt she’s leaving this bed tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?  Cullen with the beating we just gave her, I will be shocked if she can even move for the next two days.”  He chuckles.  “I’m not sure you want to hear a story about my sex life, but I’m telling it anyway.  The first time that big ox had sex with me, I couldn’t walk.  But I had to, because like an idiot I fucked him while we were travelling.”  He motions to Shea.  “You think her pain will be bad.  Imagine taking something the size of… well, let’s just say he’s very large.”

Cullen shakes his head.  “How are you even able to…?”

“Lots and lots of prep and lots of oil.  I’m used to it now.  Welcome it even.  Though I was rather looking forward to yours.”

“How would can I possibly size up?”

Dorian chuckles at his pun, “You aren’t exactly small.  As I’ve told Shea many times, she’s a very lucky woman.”

She nods, “Yes, I am.”

Cullen looks down at her, “Back with us then?”

“I don’t know about you, but there will be no round three.”

Cullen kisses her forehead.  “I might have stamina but I don’t have that much.”

Dorian nods, “I’m more than satisfied.  And seeing that our dear Shea is not long for the waking world, we should discuss sleeping arrangements.”  He looks away from them.  “I could go back to my room if…”

Cullen and Shea respond at the same time, “Nonsense!”

She reaches out from him and he takes her hand.  “You are more than welcome to stay with us.”

“Are you suggested we… cuddle?”

Cullen shrugs, “That’s what we do afterwards.  It’s nice.”

“That’s… new.”

Shea looks over at him.  “New?  Don’t you and Bull?”

“Not usually.  Never, in fact.  We talk and relax for while after, and then he goes back to his room or I go back to mine.”

“Not even on the road?”

He shakes his head, “You have to remember that he’s not used to being in a relationship.  He doesn’t know how.  To him, sex is just sex.  The only time we hold each other is when sex isn’t involved.”

Cullen lowers Shea to the bed and she scoots to the center.  “Then let’s remedy that.”  She rolls onto her side and opens her arm.  Cullen crawls behind her.  Dorian crawls over to her and she envelops him in her arms.  He rests his head on her chest and she runs her fingers through his hair.  Cullen drapes his arm over her and his hand comes to rest on Dorian’s arm.  They weave themselves together.  Shea is naturally the first one to pass out.  Cullen kisses the side of her face.  He leans over her to peer down at Dorian.  The mage looks up at him.  Cullen lifts his chin and kisses him.  Dorian hums.  Cullen’s kiss in tender and Dorian’s heart feels like it skips a beat.  They settle back down around her.  Cullen hears him sigh.  “What have you two done to me?” 

Cullen chuckles.  “Thanks for helping plan all this by the way.  This has been… the most memorable birthday I’ve ever had.”

“It’ll be hard to top in the future.”

“Indeed.”  He yawns, “Good night, Dorian.”

“Sleep well, Commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please comment! I let my ships run amok and I want to make sure I didn't lose anyone because of it.
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	10. Only Hope

She is alone when she wakes up.  The shiver that runs through her body causes her to loudly groan.  She is sore all over, but particularly between her legs.  She rubs her eyes and looks around.  The light spills in the window.  She sits up and hisses as her muscles protest.  The door to the bedroom is open and she can see Cullen fully dressed sitting on the couch.  He is smiling and laughing with someone.  She assumes it’s Dorian.  She clears her throat, “Cullen?”

He sets his drink down and gets up off the couch.  He stands in the doorway, “How are you feeling, love?”

“All things considered, pretty good.  A little discomfort, but nothing to worry about.  Nothing a hot bath with elfroot and embrium won’t cure.  Add a little healing magic and I’ll be good as new.”

He chuckles, “I’m not sure why that thought didn’t cross our minds last night.  Especially Dorian’s.”  He looks behind him, “You should now that Cole and Bull are here.  Apparently, the inn keeper kicked them out along with all of our stuff when he heard you had rented another room from his ‘rival’.  The kind woman who runs this place said that you ended up over paying since she couldn’t find everything you asked for.  We’re payed up for the next two days.”

She glares at him, “Cole and Bull are here and you just left the door wide open?”

“Bull has been respectful, not even so much as a peak.  Cole on the other hand is getting the view straight from our heads.  We’ve spent most of the morning trying to… explain things to him.  It’s awkward to say the least.”

She sighs, “Well, I know there’s a washroom in this suite, but I am not about to just walk through the sitting room stark naked.”

“Feeling shy suddenly?”

“I should probably remind you that neither of them have actually _seen_ me naked.  The mind’s eye is different from actually seeing it.  Cole has been scarred enough for one day and I question how much control Bull has over himself.”

He looks her up and down, “Shea, my love, if I wasn’t concerned about hurting you further, Bull’s self-control would be the least of your worries.”  He looks behind him and then closes the door.  He walks towards her and sits next to her.  He caresses her face and pulls her in for a kiss.  She melts against him.  His kiss gentle but heated.  “I have to ask.  Have you checked to make sure we didn’t…”

She smirks, “The baby is probably fine, but I’ll check if that makes you feel better.”

“It would.”

She closes her eyes and lets magic flow through her.  She feels the little heartbeat drumming away.  She opens her eyes.  “The baby is perfectly fine.  You know it’s been 3 months since we fucked on your desk.”

He chuckles, “It’s safe to say we officially topped that.”  He stands and grabs her clothes off the floor. They are folded neatly.  “You can have your bath and then we’ll have lunch.”  She puts her breast band on.  She swings her legs off the bed and stands.  Her legs give out and she sits back down.

She chuckles, “Well, I probably should have seen that coming.”  He stands up and walks around to her side of the bed.  She tries to stand again and he braces her.  Her whole body aches and walking is going to be a difficult experience, but she manages to stay standing.  “I think I’m good.”

“You don’t have to get out of bed you know.  I’m sure everyone would understand.”

She pulls on her smalls and flinches slightly.  “I’ve been in worse pain.”

“Not this kind of pain.”

She looks over at him, “Not this exact pain, no.”

He hears a hint of something in her voice.  It almost sounds sad.  She pulls the dress over her head and tightens the laces on the side.  “Are you… What are you feeling right now?”

“We’ve established that I’m sore.”

“I meant emotionally.”

She sighs, “I’m glad that we did that last night.  Every time we’re together, my past becomes… more distant.  But right now… I’m slowly remembering the days after with new context.”

He touches her face and rubs his thumb on her cheek.  “The pain is making you remember more about it?”

She nods, “But it feels far off now.”  She waves her hands, “I don’t want to talk about it.  Just a touch of melancholy, that’s all.”

She pushes past him and stiffly walks to the sitting room.  He tries not to laugh at her, knowing he is mostly to blame for her current condition.  Her face turns bright red when she sees them sitting there.  She waves and continues across the room.  She goes into the washroom and closes the door.  She hears laughter erupt from the sitting room and she rests her head on the door.  She knows they are laughing at her.  She sighs and turns her attention to the bath.  She fills the tub with water and heats it.  She peeks her head out the door.  Cullen is standing there holding the herbs she mentioned.  She smiles at him.  “Need any help?”

“I’ll be ok.  You all can return to making fun of the way I’m walking now.”

“You heard that?”

Dorian groans, “Well, if she didn’t know before, she does now.”

She shakes her head, “It’s fine.  I’m fine.  I shouldn’t be long.” She takes the herbs and closes the door.  She crumbles the dried leaves into the steaming water.  She finds a bottle of bath soap on the shelf.  The label has been written by Dorian.  She pours a little into the water and stirs it with her magic.  The bubbles foam and she puts the bottle back on the counter.  She strips and hangs her dress on one of the hooks next to the towels.  There is a tiny bit of blood in her small when she takes them off.  She feels a little concerned about that and makes a mental note to ask Dorian if that was normal.  She steps in the water and slowly lowers herself down.  She submerges her body until just her head is above the surface.  She can already feel the herbs helping to relax and heal her.  She pulls a healing spell into her hands and touches everywhere she has pain. She enchants the water with the spell before releasing it from her hands.  She reclines and let’s her magic do its work.

She starts to doze in the hot water.  The door opens and closes.  She smiles, thinking Cullen has decided to join her, and opens her eyes.  She gasps and covers herself when she sees that the person who entered the room is Bull.  “What in the Maker’s name are you doing?”

He smirks, “Easy, boss.  I’m just here to talk.”

“I’m a little occupied right now.”

“Don’t worry.  The bubbles hide you.  Plus, I trained you myself and the only way to get you to drop that is if your feel vulnerable.  Being naked does that nicely.”

“Does Cullen know you’re in here?”

He shakes his head, “They stepped out to find our lunch.”

She sinks a little further into the bath just to make sure she’s covered.  “Alright… then talk.”

He leans against the wall and crosses his arms.  “First, how was it?”

She blushes and pulls her knees to her chest.  “Shouldn’t what happened behind closed doors be private?”

“Not when it involves my Kadan.”

“Maybe you should hear it from him then.”

“I plan to.  When we’re alone.  Like we are now.”

She studies his face in attempt to read his emotions, but he has then locked down.  _Fucking Ben-Hassrath._   “You know I’m not any good at talking about this stuff.”

“Try.”

“It was… gosh I’m not even sure how to describe it.  Enjoyable doesn’t seem adequate.”

“So, you enjoyed yourself?”

“Immensely.”

He moves to sit on the edge of the bath.  “Good.  Now that he has it out of his system, I would like to ask that it never happen again.”

Her heart sinks a little.  Based on their talks, she assumed they might continue this every now and again.  There are still things she wanted to happen with the three of them that hadn’t happened yet.  But Dorian and Bull are an item.  If he didn’t want it to happen anymore, she would have to respect that.  She is not about to be responsible for breaking them up.  Not when they seemed to be so perfect for each other.  “Does he know that you feel this way?”

“Not yet, but he soon will.”

“Can I ask why?”

He looks towards the door and then back at her, “I can see that he is smitten with the both of you and I’m extremely surprised that something actually happened.  Both of you don’t seem like the… experimental type.  Especially you.”

“Me?  I thought you’d be more surprised at Cullen.”

“He’s older and has had more opportunities to... sew his wild oats so to speak.  You on the other hand.  Raised in a noble house, living a sheltered life, never had a relationship with a man much less touched one until Cullen.”

“He spent the vast majority of his life in service to the Chantry and he took those vows very seriously.”

“Templars don’t take vows of celibacy.  They go to brothels just like everyone else.”

“He’s never mentioned going to one.  Sex is… not something Cullen has had a whole lot of experience with.  He’s only had sex with two other women and he was in a relationship, though secret ones, with those women.  Plus he had that desire demon that used to torture him, so sex was not something he would let himself participate in, for fear she would use it against him.”

Bull chuckles, “He may not want to admit things about himself.  He could be ashamed of those sinful thoughts.  But we’ve gotten off topic.  I worry about Dorian if I let this continue.  I’m not good with this relationship crap.  You and Cullen are and the two of you combined are stiff competition.”

She sits up at little and touches his arm with her wet hand.  “We have no intention of taking him from you.  In fact, it wouldn’t have happen at all if you had said no.”

“You didn’t see him.  You had offered him a chance for something he has wanted since the first day he arrived at Haven.  You noticed I’m sure.   The way he constantly and shamelessly stared at him.  Now that he’s achieved his goal, he can move on.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t think he’s completely sated.”

“What do you mean?”

“They only fucked me last night.”

He groans, “Well, that’s just great.”

The dejected look that flits across his face for the smallest moment makes her forget that she is naked.  She sits up on her knees to get closer to eye level with him.  “Hey.  As I said, you don’t want it to happen again, it won’t.  Can I offer you some advice when it comes to Dorian?”

He looks over at her.  Water and soap drips from her breasts.  He smirks at her as he looks her up and down.  She covers herself and drops back in the water.  “Oh, don’t bother with that now.  I’ve already seen them.  And can picture them any time I want.”  He closes his eyes and lets out a deep rumble.

“Stop that!”

He chuckles, “What is this advice?”

“He mentioned that the two of you fuck like wild animals.”  He nods.  “Have you ever… made love to him?”

“Sex is just sex.”

“Oh, but it can be so much more than that!  Rutting is great, don’t get me wrong.  But tenderness, light and soft touches, being gentle and slow.  Putting your feelings into it just makes it… more intimate.  You can fuck for the physical pleasure, but… just trying it once.  Try to show him how much he means to you.  You love him right?”

“I think I do.”

“Think?”

“Qunari don’t mate for love.  We breed or have fun.  We don’t partner up.  I know we’ve discussed this when you asked about what life is like under the Qun.  I don’t know how to do this like a human… or Tal-Vashoth.”

“We’ve seen Cullen and me together for a long time now.  Surely, we’ve picked up a few things.  And… you could always ask him.”

“He doesn’t know any more than I do.”

“Then follow our example.  Take yesterday.  Cullen’s birthday.  You saw how happy he was and that had absolutely nothing to do with sex.  Get him a gift.  I mean we’re in a city full of mages and he loves to read.  Buy him a book.  Or go have a nice meal in public.  Oooo!  There’s an opera in town!  It has an all mage cast.  He would love it!”

“That sounds terrible.  And boring.”

“It’s not about how you feel about it.  The important thing is that _he_ would love it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.  But my decision stands, no more sex with Dorian.”

She sighs, “That’s your call.”

He smirks down at her.  The bubbles have mostly faded away by now.  He can see more than he should.   She follows his gaze and covers up.  “Though… if you two want to invite the both of us, I’d be more than happy to let you ride the bull.”

She splashes him, “Get out.”

He laughs and leaves the bathroom.  She heats the water more and sinks below the surface.  She could barely hold Cullen or Dorian and the very idea of trying to fit Bull inside her makes her hurt all over again.  She surfaces and runs her fingers through her hair.  “Was Bull just in here?”

She jumps a little and chuckles.  “Yes, he was.”

Cullen steps in and closes the door behind him.  “What was that all about?”

“Primarily to tell me that there would be no repeats of last night.  Unless we invite him along too.”  A chill runs up Cullen spine and he shivers.  “Yeah.  I think I’ll pass too.  I then offered him relationship advice.  Not that I’m an expert, but I’m fairly certain I know Dorian well enough by this point to know what he wants.”

Cullen sits on the edge of the bath.  “Well, that’s disappointing.  On the plus side, it seems we’ve made him jealous and that he has set his mind to making Dorian happy.  Can’t ask for more than that I suppose.”

“Dorian will probably be returning to Tevinter soon.  We shouldn’t take time away from them before then.  And we won’t be the best company in roughly 6 months.  I imagine we’ll be both obsessed and exhausted.”

He smiles brightly, “Indeed we will.  Though being in Skyhold does provide us with an army of babysitters.”  She climbs out of the bath and he grabs a towel.  He hands it to her and she starts dying herself.  “Feeling any better?”

“I’m still sore in spots, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You didn’t heal yourself completely?”

She shakes her head.  “It’s not often pain reminds me of something good, so made it bearable.  I will be able to walk like a normal person, at least.”

She dresses and he wraps his arms around her.  “I’m not sure about you, but I’m feeling particularly lazy today.”

“Oh?  And what does the Commander do on lazy days?”

“I’m partial to cuddling on the couch with my fiancé, responding to personal letters, and reading.”

“And while you do that, I’ll work on the next phase of our trip.  Don’t give me that look.  One of us should be working.”

He stands and nuzzles her neck.  “Then it seems I’ll have to try and distract you like you do to me.”

She hums.  “I don’t do that on purpose.”

“Not all the time, but you can’t help it.  You’ve always been a distraction for me.  Now, come along before your food gets cold.”  He laces his fingers with hers and leads her out of the bathroom to join the others for lunch.

***

It’s been a little over three weeks since Montsimmard.  Cullen had caught a terrible cold on the way to Skyhold and then gave it to Shea, so they had to wait a week to resume their trip.  Shea sits at the front of a ship bound for Kirkwall.  Her hair blows out behind her.  It feels strange to be heading back to the Free Marches after all this time.  She supposes it should feel like going home, but Skyhold is her home now.  Moira is sitting next to her.  Her Dalish allies have finally decided to return to Wycome.  Shea looks over to her friend and see the wistful look on her face.  “Cooper for your thoughts?”

The elf sighs, “I’ve been having dreams about… him.  The weird thing is that I can’t determine if I’m just dreaming or if I’m actually in the Fade.”

“Mine have started back up again too.  Did I tell you that Dorian saw my dream when we were in Montsimmard?”  Moira shakes her head.  “It was the same except Dorian was there, walking beside me, watching… that thing try to take my magic.”

“Think they’re related?”

“No idea.  What are yours about?”

“It starts and I’m in the rotunda in Skyhold.  Researching something or other, doesn’t really matter.  Then it feels like someone is watching me.  I look around and don’t see any one.  But the feeling doesn’t let up.  Then the scene changes.  I’m at that waterfall, the last time we spoke.  And again I feel like I’m being watched.  I look into the water and see my reflection, but my vallaslin is gone. Then for a brief moment I see his reflection beside me.  He apologizes and then vanishes.  That’s the point I wake up.”

 “Do you regret not doing as he asked?”

“Hell no.  I worked my whole life for my vallaslin.  I’m going to be Keeper of Clan Lavellan one day.  How can I look into the faces of my people and encourage them to get it when I don’t have one?  Even if what he says is true, that they are slave markings, the meaning has changed with time.  We may have forgotten the original purpose, but that’s not what they are now.  He’d never be able to see that.  And now he’s run off somewhere and haunts me in my dreams.  And the spirits are no help.  The ones at Skyhold seem to like him better than me.  Do you think he planned to leave the whole time?”

Shea nods.  “I believe it was like that from the beginning.  He’s always been a wanderer.  Not sure why any of us expected anything different.”

“I know we weren’t… still hurts though.  But enough about that stupid egghead.  How are things with you and Mister Perfect?”

Shea laughs, “Everything is great.  Never better actually.”

“Is he freaking out yet?”

“About the baby?  He’s been freaking out since day one, but he’s getting better.  I’m beginning to wonder when I’ll be the one freaking out.  Hell, at this point, I’m just very happy not to be vomiting every 5 minutes.  Otherwise this trip would be much longer than we’d like.”

“Rumor has it that Josie will be running things on her own until you get back.”

“That’s true.  Though she has Lysette and Jim for Cullen’s side of things as well as Harding and Charger for… our spymaster’s duties.  Josie has been standing in as seneschal since Cassandra went to Ostwick.  The way things are looking, I might have to have her replaced.”

“She’s getting along with Brandon then?”

“It seems that way.  Are you travelling to with us?”

She shrugs.  “I haven’t decided yet.  It would be safer.  I’m sure there are still plenty of pissed off nobles running around.  It would be wise to avoid them.”

“Then I think you should.  You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.  Just go with us until we get to the city and then head north.”

“I’ll think about it.  Are you giving him the grand tour when you get there?”

Shea chuckles, “I’m sure that would bore him and it might be depressing for me.  I don’t know.  We’ve got a lot to do in Kirkwall when we get there.  Which should be fairly soon.”  She points to a bird in the sky.  “Those usually signal we’re close to shore.”

Moira points out ahead of them.  “Go get your staff.  And the boys.”

Shea looks in the direct she has pointed.  She can barely make out the shore, it’s just a fuzzy line on the horizon, but that’s not what Moira pointed at.  Rifts swirls over the open water.  At least three of them.  Demons are falling out of them and into the water.  Moira helps her stand, her legs stiff from sitting so long.  She rushes up the stairs to stand next to the ship’s captain.  “We’re got rifts on the water.”  He rings the bell next to him, screaming for his men to go to battle stations.

“What do you need me to do, Inquisitor?”

She thinks for a moment.  “I don’t claim to be an expert on naval battles, but those demon are falling into the water.  I have no idea if they can swim.  Circle the rifts.  Come at them wide.  I’ll work on closing them.”  Cullen rushes up the stairs in his armor, his new sword and shield on his back.

“Are we being attacked?”

“Not yet.  Can demons swim?”

He follows where she’s pointing.  “I have no idea.”

“The ones in Crestwood possessed bodies and walked to shore.  But if there are no bodies…”

“Better be ready to fight then, I have a sneaking suspicion that they will be attracted to the mark as they always are and will likely climb aboard.”

She nods.  “I’m going to climb into the rigging to get a better shot at actually hitting the rifts.  Keep them off me if you can.  And Captain, keep her steady.”

“Keep them demons off me and it won’t be a problem.”

Cullen issues her orders to the Dalish, the Crew, Sera, Dorian, and Bull.  She runs below decks and grabs her staff.  She can already hear the fighting.  Then she hears the horses become startled.  She rushes into that area and demons are squeezing through the portholes.  _Shit!_   She steps back and yells up to whomever will listen.  “I need a little help down here!”  Sera and Moira jump down.  “They are attacking the horses.  And I need to get topside.”

They nod. “Prepare to taste my arrows!”

Moira chuckles, “Just don’t hit the horses.”

Shea rushes back up to the deck.  She freezes the demon in front of Cullen and rushes to his side.  “Commander, we’re going to need to get people below decks.  Demons are coming through the potholes.”

“I’m on it, Inquisitor.”  She quickly kiss him and slings her staff onto her back.  Her mark flares and sparks.  She hisses and slips.  Bull catches her before she falls overboard.

“Careful, Boss.”

She pats his arm and starts her climb.  She climbs the slanted ropes until she is half way up.  She looks down at the Captain.  He is engaging with demons and no one is controlling the ship.  _Fucking demons!_   She summons her magic and directs it at demon.  She can’t hit it from this distance.  She sighs.  She sees the wheel and it is much closer.  She focus her magic at it.  She imagines herself reaching out a turning the ship so that it heads toward one of the rifts.  The ship jerks and nearly throws her out of the rigging, but it works.  She watches the first rift approach off the side of the ship.  She aims her mark at it and it arcs.  It doesn’t close, because there are still demons manifested outside of it, but some of the ones on the ship are stunned.  Someone shouts, “Fade rift! Dead ahead!”  She reaches her magic back to the wheel.  She wraps her legs in the rope.  The ship jerks again.  The second rift approaches off the side.  Her mark arcs and some of the demons are stunned.  She looks down below her.  “Bull!  Protect the Captain!”  He nods, kills the demon in front of him, and runs towards the wheel.  He gets between the Captain and the demons.

The Captain grabs the wheel and gains control of the ship.  She sighs and releases her magic.  He makes the ship circle the rifts as she instructed.  It’s smooth sailing from there.  She sets off her mark as she passes each one and, even though it takes much longer than she would have liked, they are eventually all closed and all demons banished back to the Fade.  She slowly climbs down the ropes and drops onto the deck.  “Well, that sucked.”  Dorian hands her a bottle of Lyrium.  “Cheers.”  She downs it. “Who knew steering a ship from that high up would use so much magic?”

Cullen comes to stand beside her.  “We lost a horse.  A few of them are injured along with Sera.”

“I’ll take care of it.  Everything else ok down there?”

“As far as I can tell. There don’t appear to be any causalities, save that horse.”

“Varric wasn’t kidding about these rifts.  We’re not even there yet.”  He kisses her and she head down stairs.  She heals Sera first and then all the horses.  She passes her magic over the one that appears to be dead.  She looks back at Moira, “We can still save her!  She’s alive!”  The elf rushes over to Shea and they pour their magic into the animal.  The horse stands and Shea wraps her magic filled hands around the animal’s neck to calm it.  She hums to it as they continue to heal its wounds.  Once done, she and Moira slump against the wall.  Shea smiles.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Cullen’s going to be happy that his horse is alive.  He’s become attached to her.”

Shea shoves off the wall and climbs up to the deck.  She sees more injured men sitting around.  She pulls more lyrium from her pocket and downs it.  She walks around healing the sailors and a few Dalish.  She sees Cullen leaning on the railing at the front of the ship.  She pats his back.  “I have good news.”

“Yeah?”

“She wasn’t dead.”

“What really?”

“It was close, but Moira and I saved her.”

He turns and hugs her.  “Then I can officially report there are no casualties.”

She nods.  “And all the injuries were minor.”

A shout rings out, “Fade rifts!”

She and Cullen look ahead of them.  “Why are there so many here?”

Cullen sighs.  “If I had to guess, I would say that not only is the veil thin here, but I think the explosion may have damaged it.  I’m not an expert, but Kirkwall has had a lot of problems with possession since then, even with most of its mages killed during the Right of Annulment.”

“We should send a group out looking for those artifacts that Solas obsessed over.  They strengthen the veil and it sounds like we need it.  Now, go get ready while I get back in my spot.”

This second round is much easier.  Bull keeps the demons off the Captain, Moira and Dorian use magic to plug the potholes so demons will be forced up to the deck.  Shea hangs on and fires arc after arc.  When they are done, they can see the eerie statues known as the twins in the distance.  They line the passage’s walls and she learned when she left Kirkwall that there are heavy metal chain nets that can be raised between each one.  As the ship passes through, Shea is ever watchful for demons and the huge rift Varric warned about.  It is closer to the city than she imagined.  She signals to the captain to stop at the mouth of the passage that leads to the docks.  Ship wrecks and glowing fade rocks make it nearly impassable.  The swirling rift is high in the sky.  City guard are stationed on the docks.  Ready to fight demons and to keep people away.  Cullen stands next to her.  “Never thought I’d be back here.”

“Any ideas on how I get up there?”

“I have a few ideas.  We need to get to shore first.”

“Let me handle that.”  She grabs a rope.  “Have the Captain move the ship away as best he can.  Things are going to get loud and messy.  I’ll send a signal when it’s safe.”  She kisses him and jumps over the railing.  Her glove hand sliding down the rope.  She freezes the water solid below her feet.  She continues to freeze the water forming a path to the docks.  The city guard draw their swords as she approaches.  She hold up her flaring mark and they relax significantly.

She hops onto the wooden deck and they bow to her.  “Welcome to Kirkwall, your Worship.”

“As you were.  Varric in the Hanged Man?”

“How’d you know?”

She smirks and doesn’t answer.  She doesn’t ask for directions either, though they ask if she knows where she’s going.  Nothing has changed since she was last here, except there is more damage from the things falling from the rift.  She keeps her left hand in her pocket.  People here don’t know what the Herald of Andraste looks like.  And if whispers make it to him before she gets there it would ruin the surprise.  She pays close attention to those around her.  Her armor screams wealthy mage and she needs to be prepared.  She makes it there without incident.

She bursts through the doors of the Hanged Man.  “Varric Tethras!”  He turns around from the group he is talking to and his face lights up.

“Your Inquisitorialness!  Welcome back to the Hanged Man!” They embrace and part.  Varric motions, “Cub, I’m sure you recognize a few people.  We’ve got Isabella, Merrill, and Fenris.”

She shakes their hands.  Isabella smiles at her, “You never mentioned she was beautiful.”

“And pregnant, Rivaini.”

“Never stopped me before.”

Shea smirks, “I fairly certain you all know my fiancé and the father of my child.”

Fenris glares at her.  “It’s not Hawke is it?”

Shea sighs.  _So, Hawke actually told him after all._ “Hardly.  I denied his advances despite what he may have told you.”

This softens the brooding elf a bit.  Merrill smiles, “Who is it then?”

“The Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.”

They all laugh.  Isabella pats her on the back, “You’re telling me that that stick in the mud finally loosened up?!  Hawke’s dear sister has been trying for years.  And you’re a mage too!  Oh this is just too good.”

“Well, to be fair I wasn’t a mage when we got together.”

Merrill tilts her head to the side, “How did you manage that?”

“Long story, which I’m sure Varric can tell better than I can.  The short version is that I’m elf-blooded and was made a mage by ancient elven magic.”

Merrill smiles, “I would love to hear about that!”

“Another time, Daisy.  The Inquisitor and I have a meeting with the Provisional Viscount. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Fenris grumbles and smirks, “Have fun storming the castle.  Again.”

Varric leads her through the streets.  “Where is Curly?”

“Everyone is still on the ship.  It was easier and faster for me to come on my own.”

“Any ideas on how to clear the mess to allow us to use the docks again?”

She nods, “Cullen thinks he knows how to get me close enough to the rift to close it.  And Bull happens to know where we can find gaatlok left over from the Qunari invasion.”

“Going to blow the docks sky high then?”

“It won’t be enough to cause damage to the city, though I would suggest clearing the area just in case.”

Varric chuckles, “Bran’s going to love that.”

“We don’t _have_ to tell him the specifics.  I’m sure he’ll be happy enough to have the problem mostly solved.”  They walk in silence for a bit.  She looks over at him.  “Go ahead. I know something is on your mind.”

“It’s a little scary how you do that.  Even Hawke doesn’t know when I’m holding something in.”

“Well, you may have saved Kirkwall together, but we’ve travelled all over Thedas trying to save it.  I have probably spent more time talking to you than he has.”

He chuckles, “You’re probably right.”

They walk a little while longer.  “Well?”

“I’ve heard some rumors that have the sting of truth behind them.  You won’t like them.  But you need to be warned before Cullen steps foot in Kirkwall.”  She stops walking.  They are standing at the base of stairs that lead to the Viscount’s Keep.  She faces him and puts her hands on her hips.

“Out with it.”

“Personally, I think it’s bullshit.  But if there is any truth to this, he needs to stay on that ship.”

“Varric.”

“Word on the street is that he abandoned his post as Knight-Commander without setting up a replacement.  Granted the Order was collapsing and the Circle was gone by this time, but people are saying that the Chantry in Starkhaven is calling him a deserter despite the fact he was pretty much recruited by the late Divine herself.”

“He’s not a deserter if the Right Hand of the Divine took him away from his post.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, but there are people in Kirkwall who are fanning the flames of these rumors.  Being Meredith’s second-in-command doesn’t help his case, even though we have him to thank for saving the city as much as we have to thank Hawke.  Yet when Hawke stepped down, he had Bran replace him until elections could be held.  They blame Cullen for the mages and templars leaving the city after he did.  It’s ridiculous, but if what I’m hearing is true, the City Guard will arrest him as soon as his boot hits the stone.”

“Can’t Aveline do something about that?”

“If she were here, yes.  But Donnic, her husband, said his hands are tied.”

“This sounds like more than mere rumor.”

“Alright, you got me.  I’m not sure why, but he’s a wanted man in Kirkwall.  How easily people forget.  From what I could find out, people blame him for Hawke’s departure since the templars are the ones who drove him out.  If he hadn’t left, then Hawke might still be running this place.  It’s a long list of charges.  If they catch him, he will be sent to Starkhaven for trial.”

She growls.  “I’d like to see them try.”

“Well, if you’re going to stop it, you’d better be standing right next to him when he gets off that ship.”

“Oh, I intend to.  Give me a moment.”  She pulls a piece of paper and pencil from her pocket.  She scribbles a quick note and snaps her fingers.  Sky flies through her rift and lands on Shea’s outstretched arm.  She slides the note in the metal tube.  “Divine Victoria.  And do try to hurry.”  She scratches the bird’s head and she flies off.  “I’d like to see them try it now.  We should have a response by the time our meeting is done.”  They ascend the stairs to the keep.  Shea works to calm her anger before stepping inside.

***

Cullen runs his fingers through his hair.  _Why didn’t I wait for her to give the signal?  Why did I let those idiots convince me to walk along her frozen path?  What the hell is this about?_   He paces the dank cell in the Gallows.  His mind is running in circles.  Bad memoires and fear snake through him.  The moment his foot hit the dock, the city guards had drawn their weapons and slapped chains on him.  He had no idea why, and no one would answer him when he asked.  The Gallows are all but abandoned.  Some members of Starkhaven’s Chantry had come down and taken it over.  The nicer areas were there for people to pray and worship, while the circle is left empty.  He saw that much before being tossed in here.

He hears commotion coming from down the hall.  Her voices echoes off the walls.  “How dare you arrest the Commander of the Inquisition!?  Especially when he is here on official business!  Or do you like having a rift above you dropping demons on the city?!”

“Inquisitor, that man is a war criminal!”

 _War criminal?  What the hell are they talking about?_   “No offense Revered Mother, but horseshit!  That man is a hero!  He helped save Kirkwall from that crazy bitch _and_ all of Thedas!  None of you would even be standing here without that man’s help!  Now release him at once!”

“You don’t have that authority…”

“The hell I don’t!  The Inquisition was formed under the orders of Divine Justinia V and her Left and Right Hands personally recruited him.”

“That still makes him a deserter.”

 _Like hell I’m a deserter!_   “I order you to release him, at once!”

“As I said, _Inquisitor_ , you don’t have the authority to order his release.  This is a Chantry matter.  He was the Knight-Commander and was sworn to uphold his vows.  He abandoned them to go play solider.”

Shea growls and he hears footsteps charging towards him.  When he sees her, storming towards him, his heart sings.  She is clearly pissed.  He moves toward the door but his chains stop him.  They are clamped tight around his wrists and secured to the floor.  She stops at the door and sticks her arm through.  He pulls against his chains and leans as close as he can.  Her fingers graze his face.  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.  I’m getting you out of here.  We’ll discuss you disobeying my orders to stay on the ship later.”

She can see the fear in his eyes.  “Love, have I ever told you that I’m claustrophobic?”  She bites her lip.  She could easily break him out.  He sees her eying the lock.  “Shea, don’t.  Let me remind you that you are in a circle.  And though it may not look it, there are safe guards in here.  Safe guards that are meant to keep mages locked behind these bars.  Plus, at this rate, you’ll be locked up for helping a criminal.”

“You aren’t a criminal.  And I don’t know what’s taking Leliana so long, but I should receive her decree soon.”

“Maker I hope so.  I’m not sure how long I can hold this panic attack at bay.  And it reeks of lyrium in here.”

“I’ll be back.  I promise.”

He smiles at the fierce determination in her face and voice. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.  And if I’m ever in Starkhaven, I’m punching this Prince Sebastian in the face.”

He laughs and she storms back down the hall.  He sits down with his head in his hands.  He is struggling to keep it together.  Her angry voice drifts down the hall again.

“Are the chains really necessary?!  The Commander is not a flight risk!”  The voices become softer.  They are leading her away from him.  He grits his teeth and rubs his temples.  The silence is deafening.

“Maker.  Please get me out of here.  I’m not strong enough for this.”

***

Shea stands in the Viscount’s Throne Room with a stern looking Revered Mother, Donnic, and Bran.  “Our hands are tied Inquisitor.  The paperwork is very thorough.”

The Revered Mother nods, “Soldiers will be here for him within the hour.  With the severity of his crimes, I have no doubt his punishment will be… swift.”

Her blood boils.  Her fists clench.  “I demand to know the charges then and what evidence you could possibly have to support it.  Because it seems to me that Starkhaven is looking for a scapegoat since Meredith is hunk of Red Lyrium, the Circles have been officially disbanded by order of Divine Victoria, and the Templar Order has been all but wiped out.”

“By the Inquisition.”

Shea growls, “By Corypheus.  Or is Starkhaven so far removed that it has forgotten about the Breach, the Conclave, and the Ancient Darkspawn Magister who almost tore the world apart?  I should also remind you that Divine Victoria has declared the Chantry’s official support for the Inquisition and she was a leader among us until her election.”

“Be that as it may, he is still under arrest, until proved innocent.”

“Again.  I demand to know these charges.”

“Enacting the Right of Annulment without formal approval, the murder of Knight-Commander Meredith, desertion, and various war crimes.”

“What war crimes?”

“Conspiring with the former templar Samson, for one.”

Shea laughs loudly.  She holds her side and leans forward.  “Oh Maker!  That’s a good one.”

“This is quite serious.  Records show that he bunked with him while they were in Kirkwall.  They obviously hatched this Corypheus plan together.”

She laughs again.  Donnic joins in this time.  He looks at the Revered Mother, “You must be joking?  Samson was living as a beggar on the streets long before Corypheus was even freed.”

“All part of the plan I’m sure.”

“Revered Mother.  I see absolutely no solid evidence that Commander Cullen is guilty of any of these charges.”

“That is not for you to decide.  Your bias blinds you.  Everyone knows you are carrying his bastard.”

Shea has never wanted to punch a member of the Chantry more in her whole life.  Not even when they spat on her or called her a liar or for even trying to kill her after the conclave.  Thankfully, the doors open and Varric comes rushing in. “Sorry for the delay, Inquisitor.  A raven came for you.”

She takes deep breath and turns to him.  “From?”

“The Grand Cathedral.”

She smiles and takes the messages from him.  One is a scroll with the official seal of the Divine, the other is an envelope with her name on it.  She pulls it out and reads.

 

_Inquisitor,_

_I apologize for this taking so long.  Something like this has to be worded just right.  We have no idea where these charges came from, but believe me, whomever is responsible will be dealt with.  Severely.  This accompanying scroll should be all you need to solve this problem.  If they fight you on it, please ask Varric for the item in his pocket.  You’ll know what it is right away.  Don’t worry, it’s only temporary… unless you’d like to formally and permanently accept.  Let me know how it goes._

_L_

 

Shea folds the letter and smiles smugly as she turns back to them.  She holds out the scroll.  The Revered Mother snatches it from her.  She sneers as she reads.  “How do we know this isn’t forged?”

“Are you accusing me of forging official documents?”

Bran holds out his hand, “May I?” She hands it over and he reads.  “It seems that Divine Victoria has personally found him innocent of all charges against him.”

Donnic starts to leave the room.  “Stop!”  He looks back at the Revered Mother.

Shea sees him trying not to roll his eyes, “Divine Victoria personally found him innocent.”

“It could be forged.  I will not release him, until this can be verified.”

Shea turns to Varric and holds out her hand.  He places an envelope and a ring in her hand.  Leliana was right.  She would know this ring anywhere.  She slips it on the middle finger of her right hand and turns back to the Revered Mother.  “I thought you’d see reason.  I really didn’t want to have to play this card.”  She holds out the envelope.  “As the Right Hand of the Divine, I command you to release Ser Rutherford from his chains.  Then you and every person who is in Kirkwall from Starkhaven is ordered to return to your _prince_ with that decree from her Most Holy.”  The Revered Mother’s eyes go wide.  As do Donnic’s, Bran’s, and Varric’s.  The Revered Mother reads the letter officially naming Shea Trevelyan Right Hand of the Divine.  The Revered Mother slowly hands the letter back to her.  She holds out her hand and Shea places her right hand in it.  The Revered Mother examines the ring.  She sighs in defeat.  She smirks and nods to Donnic, who leaves the room.

Even Bran is smiling, “I believe the Divine’s Right Hand just ordered Starkhaven from Kirkwall.  I suggest you leave our city at once.  Your… occupation has ended.”

Donnic leads Cullen into the Throne Room.  He watches this stern and sour looking Revered Mother bow very low to Shea.  “You may go.  I want you gone before nightfall, since you were in such a hurry to take an innocent man to his death, this shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yes, your Worship.” The woman backups and then storms out of the Throne Room.

Bran sees him first, “Ah!  Ser Rutherford.  Terribly sorry about this whole mess. Our hands were tied. Without a Chantry of our own, Starkhaven took it upon themselves to take over.”

He rubs his wrists as he approaches, “It’s not your fault, Bran.  Other than all this unpleasantness with Starkhaven, how are things?”  Bran shakes his hand.

“It is good to see you back in Kirkwall.  I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay.  Maybe run for Viscount.”

Cullen smiles and laughs, “I have a position I’m happy with thank you.”  He sees the ring on Shea’s finger.  “Whoa!  When did this happen?”

“A few minutes ago.”

Varric chuckles, “That’s the Inquisitor for you.  Adding more and more titles.”

She rolls her eyes, “Enough chat.  We’ve got a rift to close.”

They follow her out of the Throne Room.  Once the doors close behind them, he stops her pulls her into a hug.  His body trembles around her.  She rubs his back with both hands.  “It’s ok.  I’m here.  I’ve got you.”

Varric laughs, “I’ll say.  She just became the Right Hand of the Divine just to save your ass.”

He kisses the side of her face.  “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I did.  They were taking you to Starkhaven tonight.  Within the hour.  By the time they figured out that that decree was valid, it would be a postmortem exoneration.  I was not about to let an innocent man be blamed for the crimes of two crazed templars, just because that fucking prince wanted a scapegoat.  Especially since that man was you.”

“I never thought I’d be on the other side of those bars.  I need a drink.”

She pulls away from him and runs her finger down her scar.  She cups his face and does it again.  “Let’s close a rift and blow up some sunken ships, then we can get a drink.  I’m buying.”

***

After they finish blowing a ship graveyard to kingdom come with the two barrels of gattlok Bull found, killing demons, and closing the rift, they head for the Hanged Man.  Sera, Bull, Dorian, Moira, all the Dalish hunters because they refused to leave her alone here, Varric, Shea, and Cullen all walk into the crowded tavern.  Varric leads them to his private area, where Isabella, Merrill, and Fenris are already seated.  Bull laughs, “Well, I’ll be a nug’s uncle.  Isabella!  I figured you’d have been re-educated and living under the Qun by now.”

She smirks at him, “If you were better at your job, I might be.”

“Wasn’t my job or you would be.”  They laugh together.

“Friend of your Amatus?”

Shea throws herself between Dorian and Fenris.  She presses her hands into the elf’s chest, thankful the muscles she developed as a warrior are still intact.  His tattoos are glowing bright blue.  Dorian steps behind Bull.  “Don’t make me hurt you, Inquisitor.”

“Now, Fenris.  Dorian is what we like to call a good Tevinter.  And I’d appreciate you not killing him.”

Dorian peeks around Bull’s arm.  “I’d quite like living.”

“There is no such thing as a _good_ magister.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not a magister.”

“Doesn’t matter.  You deserve to die.”

Bull sneers, “You’ll have to go through me first, elf.”

Isabella stands on the table.  “Boys. Boys.  Let’s all put our dicks away. No one is killing anyone.”

Cullen places his hand on Fenris’s shoulder.  He can feel the lyrium pulsing through his tattoos.  “You know I was a templar, Fenris.  And I’ve been working with a Seeker to manipulate lyrium without consuming it.  I would hate to have to use that against you.”

Shea looks at him.  She knows his face well enough to know he’s bluffing, but the glowing elf doesn’t.  The glow fades and he steps back from Shea.  “How can any of you trust him?”  He looks at Bull. “Especially you.”

“Because not all Vints are assholes.”

Merrill smiles at Bull, “You’re a lot different from the Qunari who were here.”

Shea totally forgot about what Bull being here might look like to the people of Kirkwall.  Cullen clearly hadn’t.  “The Iron Bull is very unique.”

Isabella steps off the table, “I hear you’re Tal-Vashoth now.  How did that happen?”

Merrill steps back from him.  This group has had the typical experience with Tal-Vashoth.  Varric steps next to her.  “It’s alright, Daisy.  Tiny isn’t like the ones we dealt with on the Wounded Coast.”

“I’m _nothing_ like _them_.  I became Tal-Vashoth when I wouldn’t sacrifice my men thus disobeying my orders to protect a Dreadnaught.”

“Your men?”

Shea nods. “Bull is the leader of a mercenary company called the Bull’s Chargers.”

Sera saddles up to Isabella.  “Are we drinkin’ or wut?”

Varric smiles.  “I know the perfect bonding exercise.”

Cullen shakes his head.  “Oh no.  Leave me out of that.”

Dorian smirks.  “Don’t feel like losing your clothes again, Commander?”

Fenris chuckles.  “A wise move.  Isabella cheats.”

The tension breaks and laughter takes its place.  They all sit around the table and Varric starts dealing the cards.  Cullen decides not to play, but he sits down next to Shea and pulls her in close.  “Are you going to try to play?”

“I did alright last time.  But if something triggers, I’ll stop playing.”

His kisses the side of her face.  “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“I’d have it no other way.”

The game begins and drinks are passed around.  Dorian and Fenris sit as far from each other as they can get.  Bull is sitting right next to him, ready to protect his Kadan should the crazy elf try anything.  Cullen and Shea are sitting very close together.  He places loving touches and light kisses on her face every few minutes.  Isabella leans forward, “You’ve changed a lot since you were last in here.”

“I’m assuming that’s a good thing.”

“Oh absolutely!  Has your stance on brothels changed?”

“I had no problem with brothels.  The problem I had was that my men would go there when they were supposed to be on duty and they had no coin to speak of, so they expected services for free.”

“Oh I see.  A champion of whores was it?”

He shakes his head.  “Just because I didn’t partake, doesn’t mean I had a problem with them.  I also think you know that I was getting my desires fulfilled elsewhere.”

“Is it polite to talk about fucking my sister with the Inquisitor sitting right next to you?”

They all turn around.  Varric stands up.  “Hawke!”

“Miss me?”  He doesn’t wait for him to answer.  Instead he heads right for Fenris.  “Come here you.”  He pulls Fenris from his seat and kisses him.  The elf grumbles his disapproval at the public display but doesn’t stop him.  Shea pats Cullen’s arm.  His whole body tensed when he heard his voice.  Shea slips out of his grasp and starts to walk over to him.  Fenris finally shoves him away and returns to his seat.  He rubs his hands together and looks around.  “Now who do I have to thank for closing the whole in the sky?”  He spots her walking towards him.  His eyes scan her attire.  “What’s this then?  No armor?”

She smirks, “This is my armor now.”  She summons fire into her fingertips right in front of his face.

“Andraste’s tits!  When did that happen?”

“Been a little out of the loop I see.”

“Weisshaupt isn’t exactly an epicenter of current events.”

“It happened during my battle with Corypheus.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.   Not sure how many people have actually thought to say thank you for saving the sodding world.”  He pulls her into a hug.  He winks at Cullen over her shoulder.  He suppresses a growl and then feels a squeeze on his knee.  He makes eye contact with Dorian.  His expression tells Cullen to calm down.  He takes a deep breath and watches Hawke’s hand drift lower.  She shoves him.

“Ah ah ah.  Keep your hands to yourself, ser.  I am promised to another after all.”  She flashes him her left hand.  He grabs it and whistles.

“Nice work, Commander.  Looks expensive.”

Cullen is less than amused by the rogue. “It was.”

Hawke turns his attention back to Shea.  She catches Fenris’s glare out of the corner of her eye directed at Hawke.  “What else is new about you?”  He looks her up and down.  “Have your tits gotten bigger?”

She laughs.  “Men.  That’s all they ever notice.”

He laughs and throws his head back.  “When’s it due?”

Varric chimes in.  “There’s a wager going on that.  What in?”

Cullen says no the same time Hawke says yes.  Shea returns to her spot next to Cullen and he wraps his arm around her, staking his claim.  She kisses his jaw.  “Calm down, sweetheart.  He knows I’m yours.”

“Damn right.”

Hawke sits down next to Fenris.  “Deal me in!”  He looks around.  “Has anyone seen Aveline or my sister?  They’re supposed to meet me here.”

Shea suppresses her own growl.  Cullen chuckles and kisses her neck.  “Calm down, love.  She knows I’m yours.”  She chuckles and settles into his embrace.

“Sorry we’re late.  We had some difficulty getting into the harbor.”  Aveline and Bethany approach the table.  Bethany greets her friends before sitting across from Cullen.  Aveline claps him on the shoulder.  “Glad to see that you aren’t still in chains, Knight-Commander.”

“It’s just Commander now, Aveline.”

“That’s right.  Sorry about that whole mess.  Donnic tried to avoid arresting you, but he had orders he couldn’t ignore.”

“It’s not his fault.  But the Inquisitor has made sure that Starkhaven won’t be bothering you again.  For a little while at least.”

“I don’t imagine that being solved until there’s an actual Viscount.  I would love to stay and chat but I have a husband to see and a guard to run.”

She bids them all farewell and leaves.  Bethany is starting at Cullen and Shea is glaring at her.  She places her left hand on the table and fiddles with the cards in front of her.  The glitter of her ring catches Bethany’s attention.  “Officially off the table then, Cullen?”

“He was never on it.”

“Didn’t feel that way in Halamshiral.”

Hawke shakes his head.  “Now, now.  Dear sister.  The Inquisition are here as guests in our fair city.  Let’s not make enemies of the savors of Thedas.”

Cullen nods.  “I agree with Hawke, for once.  No need to make this more awkward than it needs to be.”

Varric laughs.  “How many different feuds are represented here?  Tevinter vs Former slave. Ex-lovers.  Qunari vs Isabella.  Mages and Templars.  If this table isn’t a clear representation of what Thedas is becoming, I don’t know what is.  Now are we playing or not?”

Drinks are had.  Wicked Grace is played.  They all leave the Hanged Man and follow a drunken Hawke up to Hightown.  They stand in the courtyard outside of his estate.  “Now, where is everyone staying?”

Shea looks over at Cullen.  She had forgotten about that part.  “We haven’t given it much thought.”

“Well, some of you are welcome to stay in my estate.  Fenris, do you still have that mansion?”

“Yes, but some of you aren’t welcome in it.”

Dorian shrugs.  “Fine by me.  I don’t relish the idea of being murdered in my sleep.”

Cullen offers, “Shea and I can stay with Fenris.”

Moira and the hunters come up to them.  “Shea!  There you are!  We were looking for you at the Hanged Man.”

Shea smiles at her drunk friend.  “There’s plenty of room in my house for all these Dalish too.”

“Thank you, Fenris.”

Moira hugs Shea from behind.  “Remember the last time we were here together?”

“How can I forget?”

“You saved my life that day and now we’re back.”

Shea pats Moira’s arm.   She could tell it must be hard for her to be here.  She assumes that’s why she is so drunk and most of the hunters aren’t.  Shea looks over at the rest of her group.  “We’ll meet here in the morning.  There’s still a lot of work to do in the area before we move on.”

“Not staying long then?”

She looks at Hawke.  “Just long enough to do our work and then leave.  We’ll be here a few days though.  I want to hear about what’s going on at Weisshaupt.”

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.  I’m not here long either.”

Fenris pulls a key from his pocket and hands it to Shea.  He tells her where to go then takes Hawke’s hand.  He eyes Dorian as he walks towards the door.  “I suppose you can stay with your friends since I will be here for the foreseeable future.”

“How kind of you.” Bull drags Dorian away from Fenris.  They are too close for comfort and the alcohol in Dorian’s system is making him braver than he probably should be.

Shea leads them through the streets to Fenris’ mansion.  The exterior looks beautiful, but the inside is sparsely decorated.  It almost looks abandoned.  Dorian scoffs, “How long has that elf been living here?  Shouldn’t there be… more?”

“At least we aren’t sleeping on a ship.  Because I completely forgot about where all of us were going to sleep.  And with people forced out of their homes and into the inns after the explosion and then that rift, they are full up or charging out the ass.”

Cullen rubs his chin.  “I know somewhere that is fully equipped with beds.  And it currently stands locked up tight and empty.”

Shea looks over at him.  “The Gallows?”

He nods.  “The templar part though.  No one wants to go into the circle.  It’s nothing more than a prison.  The barracks are much nicer.  At least they were.  You have the authority now to stake your claim on it.”

“It’s temporary.  Though I imagine a trip to Val Royeaux is in order so I can return the ring.”

Cullen turns to Bull, who is by far the most sober.  “Would you mind accompanying me to get the bed rolls?  That way we won’t be sleeping on bare floors.”

“It might be a good idea to unload the horses into the templar stables.”  Shea hands him the key to the mansion.  “I’m going to lock the door behind you.  The closer we get to Ostwick, the less safe I feel.”

He and Bull step out into the darkened city.  Their hands ready to draw their weapons just in case.

***

_Inquisitor,_

_First let me apologize for this taking so long.  Leliana is better at all this spy stuff than me.  We’ve been tracking that ship that was waiting to take you, where ever they were going to take you, and we tracked it to Antiva City.  It appears the Crows have either been lying to us, or some other group is working right under their noses.  Nightingale has an old friend who knows how they work and is looking into how to spread gossip about this ship and its crew.  We understand that you didn’t want survivors, but we felt that killing them would not thoroughly wipe them out and prevent them from carrying out their actions.  I’ve got people shadowing them and we should have answers soon._

_Harding_

***

Cullen is happy to finally be leaving Kirkwall again after being there for four days with Hawke and his crew.  He hadn’t helped matters when he convinced them to stay in the Gallows.  He had forgotten Meredith was still stuck to the stone and she sang to him.  Shea had to heal his headache multiple times a day just so he could focus on cleaning up the docks.

Shea has been forgetting to do rather important things lately in her eagerness to get this part of the trip over with.  Such as figuring out how the hell their whole group is going to get to Ostwick.  They had only brought six horses, which left the hunters to walk.  She thanked the Maker that Cullen is there to cover her tracks.

“I solved our little problem.”

She turns to face him.  They are standing in his old bedroom.  It looked exactly as it did when he was Knight-Commander, which caused him some additional discomfort.  She pulls the string on her bag to close it.  “Oh?”

“I bought a wagon.”

“A wagon?”

“A carriage isn’t practical.  It stands out in the wrong way.  Plus everyone can ride on it comfortably with the gear and they wouldn’t be able to in a carriage.  It would be tight to say the least.”

“Who’s driving this thing?”

He smirks, “I am.”

“Do you know how?”

“It’s been a while, but yes.  My father taught me.”

“You’ll need two horse to pull it right?”

“Yep.”

“So, who’s riding with you?”

He pulls her in close and kisses her nose, “I was hoping you’d sit next to me.”

“I don’t know the first thing about driving a wagon.”

“That doesn’t matter.  I’ll be there and I could teach you.  Plus our horses are equal in size and strength, which is important, but most importantly our horses are the least skittish.  Last thing we need is for one or both to get spooked.  A wagon full of people and supplies picks up speed at an alarming rate.”

“Does it matter that my horse has never pulled a wagon?”

“He has.  I worked with them earlier just to be safe.”

She laughs, “How the hell do you find the time to do all this?”

“Years and years of practice.”

“Well, let’s go say good bye before we get tagalongs.”

“Who might want to tagalong?”

“Isabella.  Bethany.  Hawke.”

He sighs, “And if Hawke comes that means more effort spent trying to keep Fenris from killing Dorian, because he’ll come too.”

“And Varric.  Though I’d be perfectly fine with that.”

He picks up his bag and slings into over his shoulder.  “Let’s get moving.”

They walk through the Gallows together.  She pulls on his hand to stop and look at the Meredith statue.  Blood sill stains the stones here too.  The Gallows have been abandoned for more than a year.  No mages and no templars to walk the grounds.  The statues are slowly being rebuilt and returned to their original spots.  “Why would anyone want to look at those all the time?  This place is bad enough.  Why not leave them down?”

“Kirkwallers seem to like the morbid.  You saw the Twins.  Back when slavery existed, these statues were a reminder of the hopelessness of their plight.  When the Chantry made this a circle, they symbolized the same thing.  For both the mages _and_ the templars.  Honestly, as terrified as we all were when they were brought to life, it felt amazing to strike them down.”

“If they have such a negative meaning, why rebuild them?  And why not pry that crazy dead woman off the stones?”

“No one knows how.  So people just steer clear.  I guess, once they figure out what to do with this area, those statues can be a reminder not to go backwards.  Ever forward.  Or else we are doomed to repeat the actions that put us in chains in the first place.”

Shea hugs his arm.  “That’s very profound.”

“I suppose it is.”  He pauses and looks around the area that he used to call home.  “You know.  Maybe we don’t have to farm.  Not exclusively any way.  I feel like I am so close to fully breaking free of my lyrium leash.  It’s taken a long time and a lot of pain, but I’m close.  I know I am.   I can hear the song still, but it’s quieter.  I can resist it more easily.  Seeing these statues and the results of what true madness can do, I find myself wanting to help my former brothers.  Maybe help them break free as I have.”

“That is a very noble cause.  I’m not sure how many templars are left, much less if there are any willing to try.”

“And it would require more time than we have to offer.  It’s just a thought.  If we ever retire from this life, then maybe.”

She circles her arms around his waist and looks up at him.  He wraps his arms around her and looks down.  “Are you worried about what we’re going to learn in Denerim?”

“Yes.  To be officially summoned is typically never good.  But let’s not worry about that right now.  We have other concerns right now.”

“Like getting this shit with my family sorted out once and for all.”

“Exactly.”

She sighs and rests her forehead on his chest.  “I was hoping to never have to return to Ostwick, but I suppose I should get used to the idea since I’m an heir and all.  Also, our child will be third in line once we’re married.”

“Let’s hope Brandon has some kids soon.”

She laughs, “Which means Cassandra might be having kids soon.”

He laughs and kisses the top of her head.  “Come on.  We shouldn’t keep the others waiting.”  He leads her through the streets of Kirkwall, saying goodbye, for what he hopes is the last time, to the place that reminds him of the man he used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	11. Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous

The trip to Ostwick took a little longer than expected due to the unreported rifts in the Free Marches.  Yet they still arrive in good spirits, all except Shea.  She is dreading this.  Assassins lurk in the shadows and she has a difficult time remembered anything good about living there.  Moira and her hunters decide to stay outside the city.  So, they find a safe place in the woods to camp with the wagon.  Shea is all too happy to be seated on her own horse again.  She is leading the procession through the great gates.  The thick double walls providing protection from the elements and would be attackers.  Townspeople line the streets and cheer as she passes.  Her horse becomes uneasy at the noise.  She pats his neck and hums to him.  It would be bad news if the animal threw her.

It is definitely the warmest welcome the Inquisition has ever received.  She looks around and nothing has changed.  It looks exactly the same as it did when she left.  Being the sheltered daughter of a Bann, she doesn’t recognize a single face in the crowd.  She thought it was sad that she knew more people in Redcliffe or even the massive number of people in Skyhold than she did in her hometown.  She leads them through the elegant and winding streets. 

This city is not one of the largest cities in the Free Marches, but definitely one of the richest.  Her father had seen to that.  The top of Ostwick Castle can be seen from all points in the city.  If she were to draw someone a map it would look very much like a spider web.  Two thick sets of battlements surround the city, making it near impossible to breach without the enemy taking heavy damage.  The streets spiral up to a hill in the center, where the castle sits surrounded by its own gate and battlements.  Narrow alleys cut the city into wedges like a pie.  The eastern most side of the city is open to the water.  Its harbor filled with merchants and ships.  The scent of baking bread and spring blossoms are stirred by the cool breeze off the ocean.

Despite her personal history, she could not deny that she finds the city beautiful.  And strong.  Her father and uncle always said that it would take cunning to take Ostwick, after the Qunari used it to invade the Free Marches in 7:56 Storm, they walls were built making it impregnable.  She feels safe within the walls, though she supposed that with everything going on right now, she probably shouldn’t.

They make their way through the bustling streets.  The gates to the castle are already open.  Guards and Inquisition soldiers line the path.  Both sets of men salute as they pass.  The H shaped building is but a fraction of the size of Skyhold.  The white stone building frames part of the front courtyard, the square completed by thick white stone walls. Two fat towers make up the right and left sides of it, with center of it is still tall but significantly shorter.  Built into one the walls surrounding the front courtyard is a long set of stables and a guard house.  She sees her brother first, standing at the top of the grand white stone staircase.  His dark blue and silver attire looking almost royal.  As she gets closer, she notices something different about him.  Cassandra stands next to him in her armor.  She approaches the horses as Shea dismounts.  “Inquisitor.  It is good to see you.”  She shakes Shea’s hand in an attempt at remaining professional and then looks down at it.  “So it’s true!  You are the Right Hand!”

“Temporarily.  We can discuss that later.  What was with the urgency?”

“Some things have changed recently power wise.  I should have Brandon explain all this.  Let’s just say you don’t have to worry about being a Bann anymore.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Believe me.  I’m not happy at it either.”

Cullen comes to stand next to her, “Seeker.  It’s good to see you.  How’s noble life treating you?”

She makes a disgusted noise and turns for the steps.  They follow her.  Brandon stands a little straighter as she approaches.  “Inquisitor!   Dear sister!  How are you?”

“I’m good.  Concerned about what all this is about, but good.”

“We shouldn’t waste time then.  Follow me.”

They follow him through the great hall, which is packed with nobles, who all bow low to him as he passes.  This is not a good sign.  They reach the front of the room.  Her father’s modest throne has been replaced by a giant golden one.  Their family crest, which features a majestic horse, is hanging behind it, right next to an equally large crest representing the city.  Brandon turns to them, “I apologize for asking this, but Seeker Pentaghast and Ser Rutherford, would you please stay here?  I need to discuss something with my sister in private.”

Cullen squeezes her hand.  He worries about her being behind closed doors with him.  She looks at him and smiles.  He feels a weight lift and nods.  Shea releases his hand and follows her brother through a door that leads to her father’s old study.  She has never been in this room before as it was off limits.  She desperately wants to tear through the volumes on the shelves to find information on her birth mother.  Brandon motions for her to have a seat and he sits behind the desk.  She sits.

He removes the golden band from his head and seats it on the desk in front of him.  He swipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.  It clicks.  That’s what is different.  Banns didn’t wear crowns.  He places his palm on the desk and sighs.  “Let my start by saying that I desperately wish you had gotten here sooner. Your voice may have slowed this enough for me to wrap my mind around _and_ may have stopped it completely.  That said, were you ever told how Ostwick was actually run?”

“Father ruled it and now you do.”

“True, but as Banns we are part of a collective.  Ostwick is technically run by a group of Banns, much like northern Ferelden.  But for centuries now, the Trevelyans have been selected to be the voice, a figure head.  The castle was home to several of the wealthiest Banns.  As the world changed, the need for one leader become more and more apparent.  When I rose up to push father from his seat, it was a turning point for Ostwick.  Decades of growth leading to one destination.  An inheritance that no Trevelyan heir could deny.  Which is why I think this assassin business hasn’t stopped, but that’s another matter.  I honestly should have seen part of this coming, but not this.  This is… hard to believe.”

She takes a deep breath.  “What happened?”

He rolls his eyes.  “You did.  You became the Hero of Thedas.  They saw what Trevelyans, both of us I might add, can do if pressed.  They saw me gain the Inquisitor’s support and then you provided soldiers to protect the city.  They watched us ally with the new government in Wycome.  Every Bann in Ostwick knew without a shadow of a doubt that Trevelyans rule Ostwick.  So, they dissolved the collective and made Ostwick a single ruler city-state.  I am now Teyrn of Ostwick.  Equal to the Prince of Starkhaven, Viscount of Kirkwall when they get one, etc.”

“Holy shit!”

“My thoughts exactly.  There are no kings in the Free Marches as you well know, but if Ostwick were its own country, I would be.  So, congratulations!  You aren’t going to be Bann if I die, but Teyrn.”

“Well… shit.”

“That’s not all.  The Banns still call themselves that.  They are my council.  And that council now has a vacant seat.”

Shea stands.  “Oh no!  No way!”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“I’m not adding another fucking title to my name!”

He laughs.  “Says the woman who just became Right Hand of the Divine a week and a half ago.”

“I can’t, Brandon.  I already have too much power.  I’m already being summoned to Denerim on some official matter.  People are starting to get nervous.”

He stands.  “I’m not suggesting you fill the spot.  You’re the heir right now.  I don’t see myself having kids for quite some time, which we’ll get into later.  So, I need you right where you are.”

She crosses her arms over her chest.  “What are you suggesting then?”

He paces.  “Look.  I haven’t talked to the Banns yet, but I have no doubt once I pitch it they’ll agree.  Furthermore, I can just wave my hand and make it so if they disagree.  Still.  It’s an unprecedented move.  A move though that will immensely help you.”

 “And what is that?”

“I want to make give Cullen the lands our father set aside for the Fereldan refugees.”

“That’s half our family land.”

“The city is family land now.  Think of what else that does.”

She sits down.  “Andraste preserve us.  You want to make a Fereldan man a _Bann_ of _Ostwick_?”

“I want to make him a noble.  Yes.”

She rubs her face.  “I… I don’t know what to say.  Shouldn’t he be here for this?”

“I don’t want to offer it to him unless I know what he’ll say.  He won’t have responsibilities, unless he wants them, of course.  It would be his right.  I will continue to run those lands as I have.  Being both Bann and Teyrn.  The title is the most important part of this.  Since you are already in the line of succession, putting him in it makes your child instantly legitimate.  And gives him the means to provide for the both of you since any profits gained from his lands would be sent to him.”  He takes a deep breath, “No more Chantry or other people bad mouthing you, him, or your child for bringing a bastard into the world.  Your child would never have to hear that its entire life.  You’d spare it that.  They still call the _King_ of Ferelden a bastard and he’s their fucking king!  If you both decided to retire from this life you currently lead, you’d have money.   And land to settle on if you really wanted to.”

“Brandon, this is a lot to take in all at once.”

“Just… think about it.  Talk about it.  I mean _really_ consider it.  I’m not expecting him to rule anything.  It’ll be his choice if he wants to.  Any concerns his people have will come to me and I’ll deal with them as I always have.”

Shea lets her breath out in a huff.  “This is super overwhelming.”

“That’s why I wanted to discuss this first.  Other things can come later.  I really need his answer as soon as possible.  They are pressuring me to name someone.”

“Can we get settled first?”

“Absolutely.  My people should be getting your party set up in guest rooms.  I thought you’d want to give them the tour.  They should all be waiting for you in the Great Hall.”  He picks the golden band off the desk and slips it on his head.  “I’m sure you’re wondering why it’s so simple.”

“Not really.”

He chuckles, “Well, it was a conscious choice.  I would have made it silver if they had let me.”

She nods.  “Modesty in temper, bold in deed.”

“Right.  I wanted my actions as Teyrn to speak for themselves and not some flashy crown.”

She smiles at him.  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to make a great Teyrn.”

“As long as I live long enough to do it.”

“Wouldn’t making Cullen a Bann make me ineligible to become Teyrn?”

“Nice try, but no.”

She shrugs.  “It was worth a shot.” 

He motions for her to go ahead of him.  She enters the Great Hall and Brandon goes to sit on his throne.  The nobles bow to him and he waves his hand.  “You don’t have to do that every time I enter a room.”  They all chuckle.  It’s the most casual formal gathering she’s ever seen.  “You all remember Shea.”  He motions for her to step forward.  Murmurs and nods are the response.  “Great!  We’ll she’s officially heir to the Teyrn… ship.  Whatever.  And I know some of you have heard whispers that she is only my half-sister.  I can tell you that those things are true.”  They gasp and she looks at him with narrowed eyebrows.  He holds up his hand.  “While she is only my half-sister, this was all completely legal.  My mother, Lady Donna Trevelyan, was unable to bear children after she had me.  Someone of you may think that this makes Emeric a legal heir, but that isn’t the case.  Father had an affair with his mother while I was still in the womb.  Shea on the other hand was conceived through an agreement between my parents and her mother.”

Cullen desperately wants to go to her side and hold her hand.  She looks pale.  _Why is he announcing this in such a public manner?_   She looks over at him and makes eye contact.  He takes a deep breath.  She does the same.  He smirks and makes a motion with his hand that tells her to keep doing it.  She nods and turns her attention back to her brother.

“Therefore, my sister is not a bastard as my brother was.  No one can claim our father wasn’t a resourceful man.”  They crowd chuckles.  “Now that that bit of business if out of the way.  I would officially like to welcome a few key members of the Inquisition to court.  Please treat every single one of them with the same respect you’d show me.  As these fine men and women have all saved us from what was sure to be our doom.  If you’ll step forward as you’re introduced, sorry about the short warning, so that the court may look upon you.”  He clears his throat and pulls a piece of paper form his pocket. “Lady Inquisitor Shea Trevelyan.  Leader of the Inquisition. Heir to the Teyrn of Ostwick. Herald of Andraste.  Hero of Thedas. And Right Hand of Divine Victoria.”

Shea bows slightly since she has already stepped forward.

“Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath.  Commander of the Forces of the Inquisition.  Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.”  Cullen walks up and takes her hand.  She squeezes it and sighs.  Brandon looks over to the person next to him.  “Do I have to read them all like this?”  The person nods.  “Ugh fine.”  He smirks.  “I’ll spare you the long list on this one.  Lady Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.  Fourteenth cousin to the King of Nevarra, nine times removed.  Leader of the Seekers of Truth.  Hero of Orlais. Seneschal of the Inquisition.  And former Right Hand of the Divine.”

Cassandra smiles at him and then goes to stand by Cullen.

“Lord Dorian Pavus. Member of the Circle of Vyrantium.  Son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel.”  He goes to stand by Cassandra.

“The Iron Bull. Leader of the famed mercenary company Bull’s Chargers.”  He takes his place by Dorian.

“Lady Sera.”  He winks at her.  “A personal _friend_.”

She sniggers and scuries to take her place next to Bull.  “Oh!  He gets it!  Don’t need to worry about him punchin’ down.”

“That was a mouth full.  So, as I said, treat these people with the same respect you show me.  That’s all for now.  I’ll let you know if I need you again.”  They all bow and start filing out of the room.  Brandon moves to stand by Shea.  “Those were the Banns, their families, and any advisors they might have.”

“Ok.”

“I’ve got something to do, but Shea can give you the tour.  I’m sure you remember your way around.  I’ll have my man take you all to your guest rooms later.”  He pats Shea on the back and goes back into his study.

It takes Shea’s brain a few seconds to process everything that just happened.  Then it hits her.  A complete tour of the castle.  She takes a deep breath and leads them around.  The memory of her dancing in the hall pops up and she squeezes Cullen’s hand.  She walks them around various part so the main area.  Great Hall, Kitchen, Dining Room, Ballroom.  Then she takes them into the central garden.  She sees a younger version of herself feeding the ducks.  She closes her eyes as her chest tightens.  Pushing past it, she continues.  She shows them the rooms in the west tower.  She stops in front of a door and her breath gets caught in her throat.  She hurries past it leading them back down the winding stairs without even telling them what the room is.  She climbs the east tower and has no problem explaining everything in this wing.  She gets to the top and pushes the door open.  She sees that their belongings have already been delivered.

“And this was my room.  Is my room.  Whatever.  There you go.  Grand tour.  Now let’s go find that guy.”  She leads them back down the stairs to the Great Hall.  “So, you guys wait here.  I’m sure he’ll be along shortly.  I need to…”  A tall dark, intimidating man approaches them.  He looks very different from the servants she is used to seeing in the castle.  She leans over to Cassandra, “Did you clear this guy?”

“Yes.  He’s from Rivain.  I thoroughly vetted him before I let Brandon hire him.”

He bows respectfully to them.  His voice is deep and heavily accented, but also kind and welcoming.  “Welcome home, Lady Trevelyan.  I welcome your friends as well.  My name is Quinn.  I am Teyrn Trevelyan’s personal assistant.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Lady Trevelyan, I trust you know where your room is.”  She nods.  “Excellent. Ser Rutherford will be staying with you I’m told.”  She nods.  “Good.  Good.  Lady Cassandra, your room is staying the same.  If the rest of you will follow me, I will guide you to your rooms.”

Shea grabs Cullen’s hand and pulls him through the castle and up the tower.  She pulls him into her room, slams the door, and locks it.  “Shea, is everything al…”

She wraps her arms around his waist and presses her face into his armor.  “I can’t do this.”

“Do what, love?”

“Be here.  Everywhere I look I see things that bring back every bad memory I have ever had.  This room is easier, but…”  She shakes violently in his arms.  He holds her tighter.  She hasn’t had a reaction like this in months.

He strokes her hair, “Shh.  I’m here.”  He groans when he can’t reach her scar as that is the side of her face pressing into his armor.  A cracked sob breaks through her lips.  He kisses the top of head and rubs her back.  “Hang on.”  He pushes her away and quickly removes the metal parts of his armor.  He pulls her back into his chest.  She grips the back of his padded shirt.

“This was a mistake.”

“We had to come, love. I know it’s hard, but I’m here with you.  I’m not going anywhere.”

She pushes back from him.  Tears are streaming down her face.  She points to the corner by her door and screams at him.  “That’s the spot I curled up and begged the Nightmare to take my memories!”  She points to her bed.  “That’s where I stayed the whole day after because I hurt too bad to move!  And at the time I didn’t know why!  That pond is where I watched ducks before he offered to teach me Wicked Grace!  These halls are the same ones I stumbled through bleeding and broken for the room at the top of the other tower!  How can I possibly stay here?!”  Her rage has thrown him for a loop.  She has never screamed at him like that before.  She growls and paces the room.  He blinks at her.  Suddenly she covers her face and starts crying again.  He goes to her and tries to hug her.  “This is your fault!”

“My fault?  How is this my fault?”

She growls.  “Fuck.  I don’t know!  But it is!”

He rubs his neck.  He is so thoroughly confused.  “Alright.  Then I’ll accept the blame for whatever it is you’re mad at me about.”

“Maker!  I’m not mad at you!”

He sits down on the bed.  “I’m not sure what to say, Shea.  It’s either my fault or it isn’t.  And I can’t apologize for something if I don’t know what it is.”  She sits next him.  She rests her elbow on her knees and rests her face in her hands.

“I have no control over myself.  And I blame you for that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m fucking pregnant!”

He tries to hold back his laughter.  He pulls their book from her bag and flips through the pages. He stops when he finds what he is looking for.  “Sometime between month 4 and 5, your emotions are going to run away from you.  Especially during high stress situations.  This will come and go until about halfway through the fifth month.  You will most likely lash out at the father of your child, blaming him for getting you pregnant in the first place.  You aren’t going crazy.  Just focus on taking deep breaths and reminding yourself that this too shall pass.”  He closes the book and puts it back in her bag.  She leans over and rest her head in his lap.  He runs his finger through her hair.

She sniffles. “I’m sorry.  It’s really not your fault.”

“What sparked this?”

“My meeting with Brandon.  Then his proclamation.  Then the tour.  It’s all compounding and I haven’t had time to adjust.”

“Maybe talking it out will help.  It usually does.  What sticks out to you about all that?”

She sighs.  “Do you think he made it all up?  About some arrangement my father made?”

“Yes.  You heard Donna.  Your mother just showed up one night with you in her arms and your father wouldn’t answer questions about it.  He probably just said that to make sure that you stayed legitimate if someone did some in-depth digging.”

“The next thing that sticks out is all these memories that keep popping up.  It’s so much easier to distance myself from them when I’m not standing in the spot they happened.”

“I completely understand that.  I was having some pretty nasty flashbacks in Kirkwall.”

She sits up and looks him in the eye.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you knew.  The worst was in that cell in the circle.  I saw the battle in the Gallows.  I could almost feel the pain in my lip.”  She touches his scar.  “But I’ve had time to come to terms with all that.  Hell, I had to live with that for a quite some time before Cassandra came to me.  You haven’t had that time.”

She sighs.  “I’m sorry for screaming at you.”

“It’s alright.  I just hope you don’t do it again.”

“That book makes it sound like I will.”

“Then I’ll sit here and take it if that’s what I need to do.”

“There might be a whole month of this.”

“I can handle it.”

She smirks.  “I’m not sure you can handle what that meeting was about.”

“Oh?”

She turns her body to face him.  “OK.  So you know how northern Ferelden is divided up between various Banns?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Ostwick _used_ to be like that until very recently.  House Trevelyan now rules Ostwick exclusively.  A single-ruler.  A Teyrn.”

“Brandon is a Teyrn now?”

“Yep, but there’s more.  And it’s a good thing you’re already sitting down.  The Banns are now his council.  He has ultimate authority over the whole city-state, but they still own their own lands.  Do you remember me telling you that my father took a portion of our lands and let the Fereldan refuges move in?”  He nods.  “That makes up about half our family land.  Well, now that land includes the whole city.”

“That’s a lot for one man to control.”

“Right.  So, there is an empty seat on the council.  And since those are Trevelyan lands, it falls to the head of our house to fill that seat.  And since I’m the sole heir right now, I can’t fill it.”

“What does that mean for the seat and lands then?”

“Brandon still plans on tending the lands unless the person he wants to name as the new Bann wants to actually do the job.  Though he is not requiring him to do so.”

“So, this man would become Bann of your family holdings?”

“Just the land containing the displaced Fereldan people.  Brandon is keeping the other half of the land.”

“Alright, so this man becomes Bann, but doesn’t have to do anything unless he wants to?”

“Right?”

“That sounds pretty reasonable.”

She smirks at him.  “I’m so glad you think so.”

“I don’t like that look.  Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because he wants that man to be you.”

He stands up and staggers backwards.  “Me?!  But I’m not even from here!”

“Neither are the people who are living on the land he is giving you.”

“And you are actually considering this?”

“He made a very convincing argument.”

He starts pacing around the room.  “Like what?”

She scoots back on the bed and leans against the headboard.  “Any profits earned from that land would go to you.  Meaning when we eventually retire from the life we currently lead, you will have income without even having to do anything.  Also, we could actually live on that land if we wanted to.  Build a home.  Make a life for ourselves.”

“And _that_ convinced you?”

“Partially.  He also said he would run it all for you as he is now.  You would hold the title and would never even have to set foot in Ostwick again.”

“What about the people who live on this land?”

“If they have an issue, they would take it to him.  However, if you wanted to take on the duties as Bann, then you are more than welcome to do so.  You wouldn’t even have to live there.  He would send you reports and you could answer from afar.”

“And this council of Banns would approve giving this position to a Fereldan?”

“He thinks they would, but even if they didn’t, he has the power to make it happen whether they like it or not. But he said one thing that sold me more than the rest.”

“Which is?”

She places her hand on her bump.  It’s firmer now and looks less like fat and more like the smooth roundness of a pregnant belly.  It starts to curve out a hand’s width below her sternum, but her breasts block her view of it if she’s just standing up looking down at it.  “He talked about Alistair and how he’s still called a bastard even though he’s king now.  If we have this baby as it stands now, even if we are married later, it will always be called a bastard.  And that is really starting to bother me.  I almost punched that Revered Mother in the face, as hard as I could, when she called it that.  If you accept, our child instantly becomes legitimate.  Marriage or no, because it will be seen as a sort of… merging of our houses.  He didn’t say that exactly.  I’m just trying up understand how that works.  But he said no one could argue the validity.  Our child would never have to hear that word thrown in their face.  Especially if we have others.”

He sits down next to her and places his hand on top of hers.  He sits there trying to process the idea of becoming a noble overnight.  Knowing himself he knows that he won’t be able to be a passive ruler.  Letting Brandon make decisions on his behalf.  And he would want to know his people.  Was subjects the right word?  Even if they didn’t live there, he would want to make frequent visits.  Maybe once a season?  The last argument would make it all worth it though.  He loves the idea that they could kill the talk of his daughter being a bastard.  He doesn’t feel like she is, but it is technically true since they aren’t married.  And even if they married right now, it would be that same.  She is a bastard.  And any siblings she had would be too if they weren’t married.  If they were married before they had more, then it would just be their first born and she would have no claim to her mother’s status in Ostwick.  Not that that really matters to him.  He could care less about the nobility side of all this.

If he is going to do this, he is going to do it right.  He would not be the type of noble who sat around getting fat off of what his people earned for him.  He may not have known her father, but the Trevelyans, though flawed in a lot of ways, at least had the happiness and wellbeing of their people at heart.  He could do no different.  But Maker, is he actually considering saying yes?  But of course, he knows the answer.

“I’ll do it.”

She looks at him as he stares down at their hands. “Really?”

“Yes.  But I want to be involved.  I won’t be that man who just uses my title for personal gain.  While yes, technically, that is why I’m agreeing to this, I won’t let them believe that their Bann doesn’t care about them.  However, before I say yes, I want to see this land.  See these people.  Meet them.  Maybe we could make them something to eat.  A little ‘get to know you’ sort of thing.”

She smiles brightly.  “I think we can arrange that.  Would you want my version or the traditional one?”

“It’ll probably have to be your version unless Sky can carry a Fereldan lamb through the fade to here.”

She laughs.  “Now that would be something to see, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess I should talk to him then.”

“Or you could stay here with me.  We have been on the road for over a week.”

“Speaking of being on the road, any news from Skyhold?”

“Not lately.  I’m hoping no news is good news.”

“I hope so.  I’m getting a little antsy being away this long.”

She chuckles, “We’re not even at the halfway point of our trip yet.”

“Really?”

“You can go back if you want.  You would miss our trip to Denerim, but I could meet you on the way to South Reach.”

He shakes his head.  “No.  I’ll just send a raven to Lysette.  I’m not missing _anything_.  And I’m certainly not leaving you to fend for yourself in the Fereldan court.”

She turns his face to look at her.  “Good.  Because I enjoy spending every moment I have with you.  I would have let you go, but I would miss you terribly.”

“How are you going to feel when I have to leave you with the children to come up here to check on my people?”

“We could always travel with you.  I’m sure our child or children would want to see Uncle Brandon and Auntie Cassandra.”

He laughs.  “So, that’s still happening?”

She shrugs.  “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

“I never asked your itinerary.”

“Oh.  Well, I don’t really have a set schedule.  Just an order to our stops.”

“It’s been a long time since you received that letter.”

“Oh, I responded to the summons by letting him know when I was working on rifts before we left Val Dirmin.  I haven’t received anything else.  I was planning on letting Alistair know when we’re headed for Westhill.  There are rifts in that part of Ferelden and I figure whatever issue they have with the Inquisition might be lessened by getting rid of them.”

“Solid plan.  I’m a bit useless when it comes to this kind of thing.  So, I’m glad you have a plan.”

She scoffs, “It would help if I knew what I was walking into.  But our scouts in Denerim aren’t reporting anything out of the ordinary.”

He shakes his head, “That can’t be good.  Nobles love talking.  If there is no talk about this…”

“That’s why I’m worried.  I mean look at what just happened in Kirkwall. We had no clue.  I have never liked walking in somewhere without a plan and at least two backup plans.  I’m not good at thinking on my feet.”

“That’s not true.  You are very good at it.  You just don’t like it.  You and surprises aren’t the best of bedfellows.”

She smiles at him and ruffles his hair.  “I like surprises from you.”

“Except for that time I tried to tickle you.”

“Hey!  At least I was able to heal your black eye on my own.”

He crawls up next to her and leans against the head board.  She turns and snuggles against him.  He wraps her in his arms.  “Think we’ll ever get tired of this?”

“Maker, I hope not.  Though I suppose we should savor the quiet moments while they last.  In a few short months, we won’t have any.”

“Am I demented for actually looking forward to comforting a screaming baby?”

“A little.”  He smiles and hugs her tighter.  She sighs happily.  “I don’t know about you, but I could use a nap.”

He hums.  “A nap sounds lovely.”

***

Cullen paces the Great Hall while Shea lounges on the steps to the Throne.  “Will you sit down or stop walking?  You’re making me dizzy.”

“Should I have worn my armor?  Is this too casual?  Gah!  I’m no good at this.”

“Cullen. Sweetheart.  We’re cooking for a small village.  You look fine.”

He is wearing the outfit Dorian picked out for him for his birthday.  His new sword is hanging on his belt.  He feels weird going out to this village, this little piece of Ferelden in the Free Marches, without his shield or armor.  Assassins could be hiding anywhere and he wouldn’t be able to protect her.  She is wearing one of her casual dresses to match him.  It’s blue with silver accents, the colors of House Trevelyan.

“Maybe we should be bringing the others with us.”

She pushes herself off the ground.  She stands in front of him and grabs his biceps.  “You are freaking out for no reason.  You haven’t said yes.  You’ve made no promises.  We’re just going to have a small gathering with people who have made the Free Marches their home.  A nice meal.  A little tour.  There is no pressure to please anyone.  It’s a casual thing.  No need to get worked up.”

“What if they don’t like me?  What if they’ve heard of the things I’ve done in the past?  In Kirkwall?  In Ferelden?  How can I say yes if they don’t like me?”

She places her hands on his cheeks.  “My love.  They will like you.  They will see the good in you, like I do.”

“You can’t know that.”

She smiles.  “Yes I can.  Your concern is all the evidence I need to know that they will like you.  They already like the Trevelyans.  They haven’t had an easy life, but my father tried to make it better for them.  And Brandon continues to do so.  They will be happy to see that one of their own is going to joining this family.”

He sighs.  “I’m not even sure I should be doing this anymore.  If I’m having a hard time just meeting these villagers, how can I possibly be their Bann?”

“Because you won’t be coming at this like a noble.  You care about them.  They will see that. but again, no one is pressuring you to do anything today.  This was your idea.  This is no different than going to Redcliffe or Crestwood.  We have no problems to solve.  Just giving them a little levity in a world recovering from the brink of destruction.”

“I’ll have to follow your lead on this.  I would hate to mess this up.”

She chuckles, “Darling.  There is nothing to mess up.  We’re making stew.  Something you’ve been doing since you were a child.”

“To be fair, I never actually…”

She kisses him.  “Hush.  Everything will be fine.”

He sighs.  “There’s a lot…”

She kisses him again. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into it.  He moans and his arms circle around her.  He presses his lips hard against hers.  His hands press into the small of her back.  He feels her melt into him.  Someone clears their throat.  They look over and her brother is standing there.

“If you two are done trying to devour each other, your wagon is ready.  Some of your men and mine are going with you.  They will get everything you need set up.  Then leave you to do your thing.”

Shea smiles and takes Cullen’s hand.  “We’ll be back late.  I’ve got Bull working on the assassin thing with Cassandra.  If you could provide him with any information you’ve gathered, that will help greatly.”

“Will do.  Have fun today.”  He turns on his heel and heads off to find them.  Shea leads Cullen out the main door.  Cullen helps her into the back of the wagon and then smirks.

“Have fun.  See you when you get back.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Cullen Stanton Rutherford.  Get in this wagon, right now.”

He laughs.  “Yes, mother.”

He climbs in and the man in the seat checks a whip and the horses move forward.  A handful of their soldiers walk along the wagon on one side, while a handful of Brandon’s soldiers walk on the other.  They stay silent the whole ride.  The warm spring air provides them both an opportunity to travel without cloaks or gloves.  Shea traces the lines in his palm.  He rolls up his sleeves and smiles at her.  She traces the lines of muscle and blood vessels in his forearm.  He flexes every now and again to give her more things to trace.  This action helps calm his nerves.  The driver tells them they are half way there.

Shea rolls up her sleeves and holds out her hand.  He traces the lines in her hand and up her arm.  He pulls his finger across the papery feel of the dim mark.  The breeze catches her hair as it hangs loose down her back.  His heart beats faster when he looks at her.  The sun shining down on her, warming her skin and making her hair glow.  “Maker.  You’re beautiful.”

She smiles and his heart sings.  The sun bounces off her eyes like waves on the ocean. _How did I get so lucky? That this perfect creature chose me?_  “You’re staring, Commander.”

“I can’t help it.  You look so… radiant.”

She covers her face with her free hand as she blushes.  A goofy smirk spreads across his face.  He feels like a teenager seeing an attractive girl for the first time.  He presses his lips into the palm of her marked hand.  She looks over at him.  He looks younger somehow.  His face looks lit from the inside.  His golden eyes shine in the sunlight and the breeze gently disturbs his slicked back golden locks.  She reaches out and brushes her finger down her favorite scar.  The scar he got for finally breaking free of the control of others and taking a step towards to new and better life.

“Cullen.  Can I just say that I…”  The wagon hits a large dip in the road and she ends up in his lap.  Her words stick in her throat as his lips hover over hers.

“Yes, love?”

She swallows hard as his warm breath fans against her face.  “I… think you’re… perfect.”

He chuckles.  “I’ll just have to take you word on that.”

“I was expecting you to argue.”

“I’m must be doing something right to have you look at me the way you do.”

“Glad you’re finally starting to see things my way.”

He brushes his nose against hers.  The driver points up ahead but they don’t see him.  “We’re approaching the village, my lady.”

She smiles and quickly kisses him.  She climbs out of his lap and back into the seat.  Cullen looks around and sees the road leading to a rolling stretch of land.  It looks to be mostly farm land but in the center of the fields is a small but bustling village.  Children come running towards them, laughing and waving as they get closer.  Hot on their heels is a trio of mabari.  Cullen nearly jumps from the moving wagon.  Shea laughs and takes his hand.  He looks over at her with a childlike expression.  “You can play with the dogs later, Commander.”

He smirks at her, “Buzzkill.”

The wagon rolls into the center of the village and stops.  Cullen hops down and helps her down.  An older man comes up to them.  He bows his head.  “Lady Trevelyan.  It’s so nice of you visit our humble village.  I’m not sure how we should address you, your Worship.”

She smiles at him, “Shea is fine.  I’m not wearing any of my titles today.”

He smiles brightly.  “Well, my name’s Glenn and I’m mayor of this here village.  It doesn’t have a name, but we’re ok with that.  It’s an unofficial position mind.  Just makes it easy to communicate with… Teyrn Trevelyan.”

She pulls Cullen forward.  “This is Cullen.  My fiancé.  He’s from Ferelden.”

The man grabs Cullen’s hand and shakes it enthusiastically.  “Always a pleasure to meet a fellow Fereldan!  Where you from?”

“Honnleath.”

The man’s face brightens further.  “We’ve got quite a few people from Honnleath!  Maybe you knew them?”

“Hard to say.  I left when I was 13 to join the templars.”

“Well, let’s find out.”  A little boy hugs the man’s leg.  “Ah.  This curious little fellow is my grandson, Jake.  Born right here in our little village.  Say hello Jake.”

He waves.  Shea kneels down to his level and holds out her hand.  “My name is Shea.  It’s nice to meet you.”  He takes her hand with his mud covered hand.  She smiles at him and he smiles back.  A black mabari pushes between them and growls in her face.  She slowly stands and looks over at Cullen.

“He must have imprinted on him.” Cullen steps forward.  “Easy boy.  We’ve not here to hurt the lad.”

The dog cocks his head to the side.  Cullen extends his hand to be sniffed.  The dog sniffs his hand and then his little nub of a tail wags.  He licks his hand and runs around the boy in a circle.  His giggles fill the air and he chances after the dog.  Glenn chuckles.  “That dog knows a true Fereldan when he smells one.  Now, come along.  Let me give you the tour.”  Cullen wipes his slobber covered hand on his pants and then takes Shea’s hand.  He smiles brightly at her as they follow the old man through the little village.

The tour doesn’t take very long at all.  Shea does most of the talking as Cullen seems to be feeling particularly shy today.  All of the children in town were born here.  The older ones were still growing in their mother’s as they fled.  Some giving birth on the road between Kirkwall and Ostwick.  One of those women is someone Cullen used to know.  She recognizes him right away even though it has been well over 20 years since she’s seen him.  She holds a little girl in her arms.  The little girls is holding a very old doll.  “Cullen?”  He turns to look at her.  She smiles brightly.  Her white blonde hair peeking out from under a simple bonnet.  “Maker’s breath.  I haven’t seen you since you were a child.”

He looks her up and down.  His eyes land of the doll in the tiny child’s arms.  He smiles.  “I see you kept her safe all this time.”

She smiles down at her daughter and the doll.  “Well, a brave young hero did save her for me, it was the least I could do.”

Cullen pulls Shea forward.  “This is my fiancé, Shea.  This is…”

The woman wipes her hand on her apron and holds out her hand, “My name is Hannah, your Worship.”

Shea smiles and takes her hand.  “It’s just Shea today, but it is nice to meet you.  And who is this little angel?”

“Beth.  She’s terribly shy.”

Cullen wraps his arm around Shea.  “Hannah is from Honnleath.”

“Really?  Any stories you can tell me about when Cullen was a boy?”

“Afraid not.  I didn’t know him well.  I knew his sister more.  Rosalie and I were friends.  Though he did save my doll from some bullies once.”

Shea looks over at him.  He blushes and rubs his neck.  She smirks.  “So, this is her then?”

He nods.  Hannah looks between them.  “Did I say something wrong?”

Shea chuckles.  “No, no.  You did nothing wrong.  Cullen has told me that story.  Did you know you were his first kiss?”

Cullen mumbles under his breath as Hannah laughs, “Maker.  No, I didn’t.  That must be why you never spoke to me again.  Rosie always said you were shy.”  She pauses and touches his arm.  “I am sorry about your parents.  I know it’s been a long time now, but… my family had decided to travel with yours.  Then we all got separated by darkspawn.  Your parents saved us.  We thank the Maker every day for their sacrifice.  Tell me.  Did your siblings make it to safety?”

He nods.  “Thank you.  And yes.  They have settled in South Reach.  Branson has a family of his own now.”

“That’s good to hear.  We were lucky Bann Trevelyan took us in.  And though it is not Ferelden, it is our home.”

“Why has no one named the village?”

She shrugs, “No idea.  I suppose it’s not big enough to really be called a village.”  Her daughter starts to squirm in her arms.  “I’m sorry she needs to get her nap in before lunch or she’ll be fussy all day.  It was nice to see you again Cullen.  And an honor to meet you, Shea.”

They nod to her and she ducks into her house.  They continue walking through the little village watching people mill about while they wait for someone to come find them to tell them their area has been set up and they can start cooking.

They see a man standing alone a little ways from the village.  Four mabari sit in front of him.  His skin is painted and so is the fur of the big tan mabari standing right next to him.  Cullen spots the black one from early as they approach.  Shea is shaking her head and sniggering.  He had started in that direction as if on automatic.

Glenn had told them during their tour that the mabari in town stemmed from a pair that an Ash Warrior named Magus brought with him when he was forced to turn from Ostagar long before the battle began.  This is the first generation of mabari born to the Free Marches and all of them have been sold or have imprinted, much to Cullen’s dismay.  The pack is small consisting of the original pair and three of their pups.  Magus holds up his hand signaling them to stop.  He makes eye contact with each dog except the one at his side.  “Go see to your masters.”  They bark in unison before scattering. He scratches the top of the tan and painted dog’s head before walking to meet them.

“Glenn said you might stop by.  Name’s Magus.  And this is Spirit.  His mate,” he points to the large dark brown and black marbled female heading towards the center of the village, “Coco, is also mine.  She tends to Glenn.  He is quite old and his flight from Ferelden was not an easy one.  She enjoys his company.  Not sure why I’m telling you that, but there you go.”

Cullen watches her disappear into a house.  “Is Glenn’s health suffering?”

“He’s old but strong.  I think he was a farmer in Lothering.  He doesn’t talk about his past much.”

“And you’re breeding them?”

“I had thought about it.  This litter was an accident.  Spirit here had broken out of his pin and the rest is history.  It gave us a little extra coin to feed everyone this winter.  I wasn’t expecting a few of them to imprint on some of the people here.  Young Jake hasn’t come up with a name yet, but if they are going to stay here, then they may as well be trained.”

“How does one go about training mabari?”

Shea spots one of her soldiers coming towards them.  She pats Cullen’s arm and leaves him to talk about dogs.  “Everything is set up for you, Inquisitor.”

“Excellent.  Please let the Commander know that I’ll be there whenever he’s done.  Don’t bother interrupting him.”  She smiles at the solider and heads back into the center of the village.  It’s a happy place.  Happier than she had expected them to be.  They were struggling, but it didn’t seem to bother them.

A large open air tent has been set up with everything she needs to prepare the meal from the people.  The villagers are dragged tables and chairs out of their homes to set up underneath it as well.  Somehow her people have set up an outdoor kitchen, complete with a stove and oven.  Glenn shuffles up to her.  “What’s all this then?”

She smiles, “Cullen and I thought we’d bring a little taste of Ferelden to you.”

He licks his lips.  “Is there anything we can do to help?”

She shakes her head, “We’ve got it covered.  You relax and we’ll get everything ready.”

“The Herald of Andraste is cooking for us.  We’re honored.”

She waves her hand in the air.  “It’s our pleasure.  I do have one question though before I start.”

“Alright.”

“Would your people prefer water from a well or would they have a problem with water gained by… magical means?”

He chuckles.  “We have no issues with mages, your Worship.  Do what you need to do.  Water is water.”

He pats her arm and shuffles away.

She sets the large pot on the stove, uses her magic to fill it with water and then uses her magic to light the stove.  She grabs a bunch of carrots and begins chopping them.  Cullen comes rushing up.

“I’m so sorry.”

She chuckles, “I knew the moment I saw those dogs chasing all those kids that I might be doing this on my own.  And I’ve only just started, so you haven’t missed much.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Well, first off, did you pet anymore dogs today?”

He smirks, “I’ll go wash my hands.”  He hurries off somewhere as she continues to work.  People keep coming up to her offering to help, but she insists that they relax, have some ale, and just enjoy the beautiful day.  Cullen joins her and the two of them prepare the massive pot of stew.  Time flies by and they are sitting with the people and enjoying their meal before they know it.

Shea can tell by the way Cullen keeps digging for information about their lives that he is already thinking of ways to make things easier, to make things better for them.  She knows without a doubt he will say yes now.  Meeting these people, learning all of their names, and finding out what they need is just the beginning for him.  The Rutherford name will one day be known throughout Ostwick and then the Free Marches as a nobleman who cares about his people.

Lunch ends and the people of the village insist on cleaning up since they were kind enough to make a fantastic meal for them.  Someone pulls out their old lute and begins playing.  People are dancing and laughing.  Everyone is full of good cheer.  The atmosphere full of a carefree mood that infects them both.  She doesn’t dance and neither does he, but they sit together chatting, laughing, and watching.

As the sun begins to set, the soldiers begin packing up the wagon to leave.  The villagers serve them a simple dinner and a large fire burns in the very center of the open area in the middle of the village.  Everyone sits around it and tells stories.  Shea sits leaning against Cullen.  She doesn’t speak much now.  He has come to life in a way she has never seen before.  He looks totally carefree.  No past nightmares.  No regrets.  Just pure and unadulterated joy.   She almost hates to leave, but they have other matters to attend to and no place to sleep.

He brushes his fingers across her collarbone.  She smiles at him.  “When should we leave?”

“We don’t need to hurry if you are having a good time.”

“It’s getting pretty late.  People are putting children to bed and will want to be turning in themselves.  I don’t want to over stay our welcome.”

She turns to face him better.  “You sound a little disappointed with that.”

He smirks.  “Not disappointed.  Just… I’ve been building this fantasy life in my head all day.  You.  Me.  Our child.  Maybe even children.  A mabari.  Living in a place much like this.  Hell, it could even be here.  A humble, simple life.”

“It wouldn’t be simple.  You’d be their lord.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to look or act like one.  No matter what fancy titles get added to my name, I will always be a commoner from Ferelden.  You’re also assuming that I’m going to say yes.”

“Cullen.  This life makes you happy.  Helping people makes you happy.  Saying yes might be scary, but ultimately I think you’d be happy with your decision.”

He nods, “I am leaning toward accepting.  But it’s a big step.  Becoming a nobleman is not something I _ever_ imagined for myself.”

“Let’s not speak of this now.   You have much to think about and I don’t want to add pressure to an already difficult choice.  It’s not my choice to make.”

“It impacts you too.  You’d be pulled back into a life that you seem to be trying to escape.”

She presses her finger to his lips.  “Let’s not talk about this now.”

A solider approaches them and salutes.  “The wagon is ready, your Worship.  We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

Cullen stands and takes Shea’s hand.  He leads them through the villagers, bidding them farewell.  Once they’ve make their rounds, Cullen helps her into the wagon and climbs in behind her.  They wave at everyone has the wagon bumps down the road.

They ride in blissful silence.  The cool night air sends a chill through her and he wraps his arms around her.  He pulls her in close.  She snuggles against his warm chest.  He hums to himself.  A song she has heard so often, but still doesn’t know what it is or where he learned it.  She looks up at him.  “Cullen?”

“Yes, my love?”

“What is that song you’re humming?”

A soft smile spreads across his face.  “My mother used to sing it to us as she as putting us to sleep.  I’ve long since forgotten the words, but the tune is still there.”

“You should sing more often.”

He chuckles, “I’m not a good singer.”

“Yes you are.  Well, you hum nicely. I’ve only heard you fully sing once.  And a lot was going on then, but I remember thinking you had a lovely voice.”

“Thank you.  I wonder if Mia remembers the words.”

“Maybe you can ask when we finally make it to…”

The whistling of arrows hits her ears.  She pulls him down into the bed of the wagon.  Soldiers drop around them.  She peeks her head up and the wagon is surrounded by a ring of torches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	12. Set Fire to the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! My parents came up to visit for my bday and took up all my writing time lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Their men are dead.  The driver is dead.  Shea and Cullen are alone and completely surrounded.  They are laying in the wagon, using the sides as protection.  She casts a barrier over each of them.  “What’s the plan, Commander?”

“We have no armor.  We are drastically out numbered.  It doesn’t look good.”

She smirks.  “You aren’t giving up are you?”

“Not without a fight.”

She peeks her head up at see what’s happening.  The circle hasn’t moved from their position.  The darkness hides their true numbers.  “I can’t see how many there are.  And I don’t like not being able to see their archers.”

“How much lyrium do you have on you?”

She looks down at him.  “Forming a plan?”

“Maybe.  It’s risky, but it could give us a shot.”

“You have my attention.”  He brushes hair from her face.  He can feel their death coming closer and closer.  If this works, she might have to raise their child alone.  He can’t tell her that.  Yet he knows she has a better chance to survive if he provides a distraction.  She sees the goodbye in his eyes.  “No.  Whatever you’re thinking you need to stop.  We’re not dying tonight.  I will do whatever I have to in order to prevent that from happening.”

He sighs.  “We must be realistic.”

“Fuck being realistic.  Maybe defeating Corypheus has made me too bold for my own good, but I have no intentions of dying tonight.  Or losing you for that matter.  So, stop those thoughts now.”

He swallows hard and takes a deep breath.  “You never answered me about the lyrium.”

She looks away from him.  “None.”

“Shit.” He hits the back of his head lightly against the wagon floor a few times.  “How fast can you recover it?”

“Probably not fast enough.”

He sits up slightly and looks around.  “The horses appear to be uninjured.  If we can spook them, they will run.  But that’s dangerous.”

“It’s better than just sitting here.”  She lays on her back next to him.  “Fire or lightning?”

“Shea Trevelyan!”  They both hold their breaths.  “Come out now and we might let the Commander live!”

She looks over at him.  He shakes his head.  “He said might.  There is no guarantee.”

“Fire or lightning?”

“What do you have the most control over?  You’re going to have to hit a spot very close to them without looking.”

“Lightning then.”

“I won’t ask again!”

She closes her eyes and he takes her hand.  She focuses on what she wants to do, the exact spot she wants to strike.  She feels her magic wane slightly.  “Shit.”

“What?”

“I’ve got one shot at this.  They have a templar.”

“Make it count them.”

He feels the air rapidly start crackling.  A loud crack sounds overhead and the bolt strikes the ground right next the one of the horses.  They both rear back and cry out in terror.  The wagon lurches forward.  She holds onto him as they bounce along the road.  Her barriers fail.  She grits her teeth trying to hang onto her magic.  He sits up slightly to watch their progress.  Torches fly past them as their attackers jump out of the way.  From what he can tell in the blurred observation, is that these men are well armored and were there in force.  If this didn’t work, there was no way they’d survive the battle.  If their formation is the same all the way around, then they are outnumber 15 to 1.  How had a force that size made it this close to the city without being noticed?

The horses run uncontrolled until Cullen is sure they were out of range of the archers.  He stands gripping the sides of the wagon and struggles to get to the front.  Shea’s magic is still being sapped, but it comes back more and more the further they get away.  Cullen pushes the driver’s body out of the seat and grabs the reins.  He calms the animals but keeps their speed going.  They fly along the road back to Ostwick.

Shea cries out in pain.  “What’s wrong?”

“My blood feels like it’s on fire!”

“They have your phylactery.  Just try to hang on.  Once we get out of range, they won’t be able to use it.”  He drives the horses faster.  The city walls come into view and his heart sinks.  He pulls on the reins and the wagon slows to a stop.  “Shea.”

She presses up off the floor of the wagon.  Her head swims from the pain.   Tears spring up in her eyes.  A line of armed men block the road.  Her Dalish allies are kneeling in front of them with swords to their throats.  Standing front and center is a heavily armored man holding two glowing phylacteries.  Moira is curled up on the ground beside him.  Without a moment’s hesitation, she leaps out of the wagon.  Cullen follows right behind her.  The man holds up his free hand to signal them to stop.

“One step closer and we kill these knife ears.  They are friends of yours, no?” His smug smile makes rage bubble up inside her.  Her magic is still out of reach.  He folds his hands behind him and slowly paces from side to side beside Moira.  “We’ve learned not to underestimate you, Inquisitor.  You are resourceful and strong.  Which is evident by the fact that you are still standing despite the effect this phylactery should be having on you.  But you’ve both played your parts well tonight.  It’s a shame that your men had to die to get you here, but I’m sure your people will compensate their families.”

“What do you want?”  Shea can’t even look at the man.  Her eyes are fixed on the tiny frame of her best friend curled up and writhing on the ground.

“You, of course.  And if you both agree to come quietly.  We will spare these elves and let them return to whatever forest they come from.”

“And her phylactery?”

“Destroyed as soon as we are clear.”

She looks over at Cullen.  He knows what she wants to do and he can’t blame her for it.  He reaches over and laces his fingers with hers.  He nods.  She turns her attention back to the man.  “Alright.  Let them go first.  I don’t know you and need to know that you will keep your word.”

He looks behind him and nods.  They men sheath theirs swords and the hunters stand.  They don’t move to leave.  “We will not leave without our First.”

“You can take her.  Her magic stays caged until we are clear.”

A hunter steps forward and scoops her off the ground.  Shea calls to them.  “Go into the city.  Tell them I sent you.”  He nods.  The armed men let them leave.  She watches them hurry off towards the city.  Once they are out of view, she turns her attention to the man in front of her.  “They are clear.  Now, smash it.”

He reaches behind him and a man hands him two sets of shackles.  “Disarm the Commander.”  One of the men rush forward.  Cullen pulls the sword from his belt and hands it over.  The man admires the blade before turning back to his group.  The leader steps forward.  He pulls her hand from his and clamps the shackles tightly around her wrists.  She snarls, but doesn’t move to stop him.  Cullen holds his arms out and the man clamps the shackles around his wrists.  He holds out the dimly glowing the phylactery.  The light slowly fades and he drops the vial of dark liquid on the ground.  He steps on it and the glass pops beneath his foot.  “Let’s get moving before those knife ears bring reinforcements.  Get back in your wagon.  One of my men will take the reins.”  Cullen helps her into the back before climbing in after her.  The leader climbs in the wagon and the man who took Cullen’s sword hands it to him.  He sits across from them as the wagon starts to move.

Cullen studies the man across from him.  He has a feeling that the only reason he is there is to keep Shea under control.  Her phylactery is still in the man’s hand.  _If I can somehow get that out of his hand, break his control over it, then she can get her magic back and free us._   _But how?  How does she keep ending up in these situations?  And how did they know we would spook the horses and blow past those men?  How did they know we were in that village?  Who are these people?_

She shifts beside him.  He scoots closer to her.  The cool spring night chills them both.  He wants to hold her and she wants his arms around her, but the shackles prevent them from doing so.  She rests her head on his shoulder.  Fear and pain flood her system.  The temporary distraction of seeing her Dalish friends held captive has given way to the feeling of her magic withdrawals.  She shakes beside him.  He turns his head and kisses her forehead.  He feels helpless.  He wants to help her but knows that he can’t.  The man across from them wraps his hand around the vial of glowing blood.  She hisses and he smirks.

Cullen grumbles, “Is that really necessary?”

“Necessary?  Probably not, yet I so enjoy doing this to mages.  Always have.”

“What circle were you in?”

“Who says it’s past tense?”

“The circles have fallen across Thedas.  The templars must find a new purpose.”  The man shakes his head.  Shea twists next to him and grips his arm as best she can.  “Could you please stop doing that?  She’s not the only one you’re hurting when you do that.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

He smirks, “My masters… let’s just say the child’s life is the least of your troubles.”

Cullen’s scar pulls up as he snarls at the man.  Shea whimpers and her hold on his arm tightens.  He looks over at her.  He needs to behave.  His words and actions directly affect her.  She closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing.  She feels a weight settle over her, pushing her magic even further way.  The lyrium in her blood ignites and she cries out.  Cullen braces her to prevent her from falling out of the wagon.  She slumps into him.  He lifts both arms over his head and slips his bound arms around her.  He pulls her into his lap and hugs her close to him.  Her hands grip his shirt and he watches her struggle to stay strong through the painful surge of withdrawal.

Somehow she falls asleep with her head tucked under his chin.  He hates how small she feels curled up in his lap.  Seeing her like this makes him hate the things he used to take pleasure in.  _No mage deserves this.  Not even…._ He looks down at her.  Could he actually ask her to do that?  Reach into the forbidden to save them?  It isn’t something she can come back from and she would be forever changing as Dorian was when he used blood magic to save them all those months ago.  _Are these the same people who tried to poison us?  If they are, can I live with myself knowing two people I care about had to resort to blood magic just to save me from these people?_

He can’t ask her to do it even though he knows she could easily break the hold this man had over her just long enough for him to get her phylactery.  Their captor shifts in his seat.  He waves his hand over the vial and she hisses.  He puts it in his pocket and crosses his arm over it.  He settles down in a stable position and closes his eyes.  Cullen knows that he locked in the spell over the phylactery to keep it active as he sleeps and only he can remove it.  Granted if it was destroyed, the spell would fall away.

He has no idea how long they’ve been going or even in what direction.  He doesn’t know this land and the trees overheard block the stars.  She stirs in his arms and he feels her press a cold and clammy kiss under his chin.  He rubs her back as best he can, ignore the pain in his wrists from the shackles.  She leans back to look into his eyes.  She moves her bound hands up his chest and holds them between their faces.  She uses the dim glow of her mark to light their faces.  Her eyes are bloodshot.  So much so the he can barely see the whites of her eyes.  He inhales sharply.  “What has he done to you?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“This isn’t a templar power I’ve seen.  Maybe it’s something only those who go hunting for runaways learn?  Something to do with the phylacteries?”

Her voice cracks.  “I… I can’t be certain… but I think I was just in the Fade.”

“What?  How?  You’ve been cut off.”

“I don’t know, but it sure looked like the Face.”

“What did you see?”

She runs a finger down his scar.  “I looked different than the Fade I know.  I’m still not used to seeing the Fade through the eyes of a mage.  It looks… different.  Less glowing green fog and water, and more… beauty.  But I saw a way out.”

“A way out?”

“Of this bind we find ourselves in.”  She sighs and squeezes her eyes closed.  “I’m having a hard time thinking.  There’s a… pressure in my head.  But if I understand what I saw, then we just had to bid our time.  A moment.  A tiny moment will present itself.  There can be no hesitation on my part.  But I worry what will become of me should I act on what the spirits whispered to me.”

“I’m still not sure this was actually the Fade.  You are completely cut off right now.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I know what I saw.”

He licks his lips.  “If you believe you were in the Fade, I suppose I should believe it too.  Though there is evidence to the contrary.  What is it that you are supposed to do?”

“I… I must use forbidden magic.”

“Blood magic?” 

She nods and rests her forehead on his chin.  “I don’t want to.  Once I do this, I’ll be forever branded. There has to be another way.”

“Maybe these weren’t spirits.  They could have easily been demons.”

“Only time will tell.  Maybe we’ll be rescued before I have to resort to it.”

He lifts her face and watches a blood filled tear roll down her cheek.  He growls and nudges the man across from them.  He wakes with a start and points Cullen’s sword at them.  “I apologize for waking you.  But something is wrong with her.”

Cullen pulls his arms over head and takes her hands.  He raises them next to her face to illuminate her eyes with the mark.  The man groans and sits up.  He grabs her chin and studies her face.  He rolls his eyes.  He points the sword at Cullen.  “Come sit over here.  Her body is reacting to her withdrawal.  I take it she’s never gone this long without it?”

“That’s correct.”

“Then you’ll sit next to me while I give her a break.  She tries anything, I’ll run you through.”

They look at each other.  Cullen kisses the side of her face and moves to the other side of the wagon.  The man waves his hand over the vial and she inhales sharply.  She slides off the seat on to the floor of the wagon.  Her relief is so powerful that she goes completely limp.  She smiles with her eyes closed and places her hands on her stomach.  The man pokes Cullen in the side with his sword.  He hisses and her eyes open.  She sits up and raises her hands in the air.  “I’m sorry!  It’s a force of habit to check on the baby after I go through stress like that.  Please don’t hurt him.”

“You are lucky that I have the patience of a Chantry sister.  No magic at all.  If I even since the smallest bit, he dies.  Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

They ride through the night in utter silence.  She doesn’t stop staring at Cullen from her spot near his feet and he stares right back at her.  Her turned up palm providing just enough light to see each other’s features.  The rising sun catches their attention.  They both have the same thought.  _Judging by where it’s rising, we are travelling North West._   Heavy bags sit below their eyes.  They are exhausted but neither of them can bring themselves to sleep.  Their captor lulls beside them.  He wants sleep as much as they do, but he doesn’t.  They assume he won’t sleep until her magic is under lock and key again.  Shea can see the Vinmarks in the distance.  If they crossed over them, there was no telling how fast the others could catch them.

Her lids sag.  She makes eye contact with Cullen.  His tired honey eyes look on her with sympathy.  Her body still aches but at least the headache has finally gone away.  “Get some rest, love.”

“What about you?”

The man rolls his eyes.  “We’re all tried.”  He puts the sword away.  He motions to her.  “Well, go ahead before I change my mind.”  Cullen throws himself to the floor of the wagon.  She ducks into his chained arms and they lay down.  She holds her hands to her chest and they get as close to each other as they can get.  They know that both of them sleeping will hinder their ability to track their location, but being asleep in his arms, makes the lack of information worth it.

***

Shea opens her eyes and looks around.  She stands in a vast field of wildflowers.  A thick blanket of yellow, red, pink, purple, orange, and blue covers the ground and hides her legs from the knees down.  The rich meadow is extremely peaceful.  She begins to wander around enjoying the peace and quiet.  A halla leaps from the surrounding trees and begins to graze.  She stands still and watches the beautiful white horned animal nibble at various flowers.  It spots her standing there and freezes.  She holds her breath as their eyes lock.  The animal’s eyes glow bright blue.  Shea falls backwards, her fall softened by the flowers around her.   The halla glows brightly and comes to stand beside her.  The halla presses its soft nose to the center of her forehead.  Magic flows through her and she gasps.

A soft, gentle, feminine voice drifts to her ears.  “The Dread Wolf sends his regards.”

She sits up and the halla is gone.  Her body hums.  She slowly stands and looks around.  She sees a bright light shining through the trees.  Her feet take flight.  Her bare soles pad soundless as she runs.  She jumps past the tree line as she emerges and in the center of a clearing in a large herd of halla.  They all look up from their grazing to stare at her.  She recognizes the halla from moments ago.  She slowly walks towards it.   She extends her hand and whispers, “Were you the one who spoke to me?”

It presses its head against her hand.  Shea feels connected to this creature.  It must be more than what it appears.  Its eyes glow blue again.  The feminine voice fills her ears.  “Yes and no.  What do you know of your Creators, child?”

“My Creators?  Do you mean the elven gods?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know as much as I probably should.”

“Then it is not for me to educate you, da’len.”

“Why do you ask then?”

The halla steps closer to her.  “Your magic comes from the Creators.  One in particular.  He watches over you as none before and none after.  He respects you and wishes for you to be able to use his accidental gift to the fullest.  When you wake, meditate on what you have felt flow through you this night.  The Fade holds answers, but only if you seek them.”

“I don’t know how to walk the Fade.  I have tried, but my dreams are just that.  I cannot impact them.”

Another voice echoes through the clearing.  “Yes, you can.”  The halla around her scatter, except for the one in front of her.  She drops her hand from its forehead and spins around.  Her heart beats quickly.  She searches for him.

The halla nudges her shoulder, “You will not find him.  He is but an echo to you.  The voice in your mind that offers you information you already have, yet have forgotten.”

“Forgotten?”

“Yes.  The information is there.  You’ve spoken about the very thing that blocks you from entering the Fade as you were meant to.  Once you have achieved this on your own, more answers will come.”

“Answers?  To what questions?”

The halla begins to walk away.  “Fen’Heral has left you with instructions, da’len.  Think on this and you will have your answers.”

***

Shea’s eyes pop open.  She sits up and looks around.  She rubs her face and realizes her wrists aren’t bound.  The scrapes and bruises from the metal look as if they could become infected at any moment.  She places a healing spell over each wrist and is surprised when it works.  She finds herself in a cell of some kind, yet she feels like she is still moving as if on a road.  She braces herself on the metal wall and pushes up to a standing position.  The top of her prison is an open grid as is the top few feet.  The rest of the walls are solid metal.  Even the door.  There is a small sliding metal door at eye level.  She tries to open it, but it is locked from the outside.  She walks the opposite side of the door and jumps as high as she can.  She manages to grab the open part of the wall and tries to climb it.

“Shea?”

Hearing her name startles her and she drops down.  “Cullen?”

She sees movement at the top of the wall.  His fingers curl around one of the high bars.  His nails are filthy and bloody.  Her heart sinks.  “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine.  Can you reach me?”

“I can try.”  She looks around.  She sees an empty bucket, no doubt meant for a completely different purpose.  She flips it over and pushes it over to the wall.  She steps up on it and easily laces her fingers with his.  “Have they hurt you?”

She hears him chuckle.  “I’ve had worse.  This cage and being separated from you is the worst part of all this.”

“Maker.  I wish I could see your face.”

He squeezes her hand.  “So do I.”

She lets go of his hand and reaches towards the top of the cage.  She jumps and grabs the bars with both hands.  She pulls herself up as she did so long ago on a tree branch on the Imperial Highway.  She can see the top part of the door in his cage, directly opposite hers on the far side.  She sees the same bucket in the corner.

“What are you doing over there?”

She grunts, “Go stand by your door.”  He does as she tells him and turns to face to wall.  He smiles as he sees her hugging the bars, the rest of her body dangling.  She smirks at his amused expression.  Then she notices his injuries.  He has a severely blackened and swollen eye, his lower lip is busted and bleeding, his nose is broken and there is a cut across the bridge that is also bleeding, there is a cut across his cheekbone, and a bruise on his jaw.  Dried blood covers roughly half his face.  “Oh, Cullen.”

“I look worse than I am.”

She drops back down to her bucket and sticks her hand through the bars.  “Give me your hand.”

He rushes forward and reaches up to her.  She laces her fingers and closes her eyes.  He feels her summoning her magic and yanks his hand away.  “I’m sorry, love.  I can’t let you do that.  Magic is what got me beaten in the first place.”

“What?  What happened?”

“While we were sleeping earlier this morning, your whole body thrashed.  I had to let you go and move away.  Your eyes opened for a moment and they glowed bright blue.  Then the light faded and you were sound asleep again.  They said you were trying to use magic on them and threatened to beat you for it.  I made them punish me instead.  Whatever happened was clearly beyond your control.  The man in the wagon with us, his name is Samuel.  He is a former templar, that we already figured out, but he understood that it wasn’t your fault which is why I’m only beaten and not dead.”

“They won’t even let me heal you?”

“No.  Any magic use on your part gets me hurt all over again.  Or you if they feel you misbehaved badly enough.”

“If they are so worried about it, why not use my phylactery?”

“No idea.  My guess is they want you healthy.”

Someone bangs on the outside of the cage.  “Shut up in there!  Or we’ll come in there and shut you up.”

He laces his fingers in hers.  They stand there holding hands over the wall for a long while.  She hears something unlock on her door and quickly pulls her hand away and moves the bucket back to its spot.  She moves back from the door and slides down the wall opposite it.  She sits on the floor and rests her hands on her stomach.  The door flies open and two men charge in.  They grab her arms hard and pull her up out off the floor.  They reek of booze and fear rises in her.  “Unhand me!”

Cullen turns over his own bucket and stands on it.  His eyes just clear the top of the solid part of the wall.  They are in the middle of the woods and the sun is beginning to set.  “Where are you taking her?!”

“Stop struggling, bitch!”

“Yeah!  Or you won’t like what happens next.”

She looks over her shoulder as she is dragged off into the trees.  Her eyes meet his and she hears him roar.  The cage shakes as it disappears from view.

***

He rages inside his cage.  Pacing like a captured lion ready to pounce on whomever dares to open the door.  It is fully dark now and they have yet to bring her back.  His knuckles are bloody and sore from punching the metal walls.  His ears catch the sound of rustling and he pounces on top of the bucket and his eyes search the area.  Samuel enters the little clearing carrying Shea in his arms.  She is unconsciously.  Her face is pale, deep purples splotches are beginning to form on her cheek and neck.  Her lip is busted and bleeding.  He shakes his bars and releases his rage filled roar.  “What have you done to her?!”  The man looks up at him.  He quickly looks away and puts her back in her cage.  Cullen listens to it lock and growls.  “Tell me what you’ve done!”

Cullen strains to see him as he walks.  He walks up to his door and unlocks it.  “If I open this door, I must have your word that you won’t attack me.”

“I make no such promises.  But I will try not to.”

“I suppose that will have to do.  But I am armed and will kill you if you make me.”

“Fine.”  The door opens he comes inside Cullen’s cage.  “Now, what did you do to her?”

“I did nothing.  I was reporting in to my masters when I heard the commotion.  Seems a few of my men decided to take it upon themselves to… have a little fun with her.”  Cullen snarls and his fist clench.  “Easy, Ser Rutherford.  Nothing happened.  She fought back without magic.  Took a few blows, but she’s otherwise fine.  Those men are dead, I’ll have you know.  Raping her goes against our orders.”

“That wasn’t going to stop the men who were going to take her on that ship.”

“She was to be payment for the ship.  As long as she arrived alive, my masters didn’t care what they did to her.  That has changed.  She is wanted dead or alive, but we are expressly forbidden from torturing her physically.  I consider rape torture and since I am in charge here, they had to pay for their… insubordination.  If you look out that way, you should be able to see them hanging.”  He points.  Cullen moves his bucket and stands on it.  Sure enough, the men who dragged her off are hanging from a tree with signs pinned to their chests.  He has read about this custom and searches his mind for the people who do that.

He turns back to Samuel, “Then why is she unconscious?”

“I let her heal herself with what little lyrium is left in her blood.  Then let her go into the Fade to recharge.  She didn’t earn those marks and therefore shouldn’t have to wear them.”

Cullen is taken aback by that.  “That is… surprising.”

“I’m not a monster, Commander.  I have orders and will follow them to the letter.  I know my place.”

“Then why did you torment her with her phylactery?”

“Oh, that.  Well.  I am a templar.  Regardless of what our purpose was always said to be, mages are a danger.  Showing her firsthand what I can do to her is not only a lesson she needed to learn, but you needed to see it too.  I am not above it.  I enjoy the power I have, and why shouldn’t I?  I earned them and continue to pay the price for them.  She also needed to know that I could give two shits about her being pregnant.  You should know that too.  As I said before, _she_ is wanted alive or dead.  You and that kid are just insurance that she behaves.  It’s a lot easier to bring her back willingly, than have to drag a corpse the whole way back.”

“Taking her magic away does hurt her physically.  It’s just another form of torture.”

“I suppose you would know.  Even the best templars have that little tick on their belts.  We all torture a mage or two in our time.  But my point has been made already.  I shouldn’t have to do it again.”

Cullen folds his arms over his chest.  “May I see her?”

“No.”  He turns and leaves the cage.  The door slams and locks behind him.

Cullen leans against the wall and slides down to the floor.  His whole being aches to have her in his arms.  To comfort her.  He knows she will be frightened and suffering from her mental scars when she wakes.  He hates that he won’t be there to caress her scars to remind her that she is alright.  At least for now.  He closes his eyes and wishes he could go to her in the Fade.  Wishes he could do something, anything to make her feel better.  He wonders what their people are doing to find them.  He doesn’t even know where they are at the moment but he knows their friends are clever and determined. 

He hears her groan and he leaps off the floor.  He grabs the bucket and moves it to their shared wall.  He can barely make out her figure in the darkness.  She sits up and presses her hands against the sides of her head.  “I’m here, love.”  She looks behind her and the light from her hand shimmers in his eyes.  She pulls herself off the ground and steps up on her bucket.  She reaches up to him and sticks her marked hand through the bars.  He places the side of his face in her hand.  “Are you alright, my love?”

“I will be.”

He turns his face and kisses her palm.  “Are you hurt?”

“I’ve had worse.  And once I’m strong enough, I have permission to fully heal myself.”

He doesn’t know what else to say.  He can’t see her face, but he can hear in the tremor in her voice.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.  Try to get some sleep.  I plan on doing the same.”

He kisses her palm again and she pulls her hand back.  He steps down and leans against the wall.  His eyes grow heavy and he falls asleep against his will.

Shea kneels and sits back on her feet.  It was way to close for comfort.  Though Samuel had promised that it would never happen again, she doesn’t believe him.  She saw the same look in the eyes of those two men in the eyes of countless others that stood around and watched her try to fight them off.  She places her hand against her neck, still feeling their hands around her neck trying to choke the life out of her enough that she would pass out.  She almost had.  She honestly didn’t know if she was about to die or if she would have just passed out.  How many of them would have had a go at her while she was unconscious?  She thanked the Maker that she never got to find out.

She folds her hands in her lap and closes her eyes.  She focuses on that feeling she got in the Fade.  The halla giving her more magic.  At least that’s what it felt like.  Maybe it was just activating something else.  _Fen’Heral had sent her.  Or at least that’s what it sounded like.  What does mean exactly?  That the elven gods are not only real, but still alive and kicking?  Well, I’ve met Mythal/Flemeth/Asha'bellanar. Is it so ridiculous that the Dread Wolf also exists?_   She plays the scene she experienced in the Fade again.  Replaying the words spoken to her carefully.

_My magic comes from the Creators.  So, that means one of them charged that orb like Moira suspects.  He watches over me as none before and none after.  He hasn’t reached out to anyone like he is to me maybe?  He respects me.  But does he know me?  Why does he respect me?  He wishes for me to be able to use his accidental gift to the fullest.  So, becoming a mage was an accident, but he views it as a gift.  And since it has happened I might as well be able to use his power fully.  And it’s his power isn’t it?  His magic storage in the orb and then emptying into me.  Just think of the problems this would have caused if Corypheus wasn’t racist and let an elf touch it, he would have been unstoppable.  This magic is ancient.  What did Morrigan say?  That this is no ordinary magic.  It’s ancient.  Beyond ancient.  Older than any documented event.  Probably created long before the fall of Elvhenan.  The Well whispered things to her about foci and their boons and banes.  Morrigan never went into detail, but she implied that the older the magic the more powerful it was.  She said there was an untapped source, like when I first used it to heal everyone after Corypheus and that if I was ever able to access it, that I would be the most powerful mage in all of Thedas._

Shea doesn’t like that idea.  She is slowly learning that her actions, whether her own doing or that of chance, are putting a target on her back.  Cullen’s too just for associating with her.  She doesn’t even want to imagine the number of people who would come after her if they knew about all this, much less if she was able to unlock it.  So, why was she trying?  She shakes her head and thinks about to the Fade again.  Something had been unlocked and she wanted to know what that was.  She also needed to sift through her mind to figure out what information she had from Solas that would make her a Dreamer.

She is so lost in thought that she completely loses track of the outside world.  Samuel stands in front of her watching her meditate.  Her injuries still aren’t healed.  The collar of her torn neckline reveals enough of her flesh to make his mouth water.  He stands there and stares at her, watching her chest rise and fall with each deep breath.  He clears his throat and she slowly opens her eyes.  “I came to watch you heal yourself.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“No, but I wanted to see the damage after it has settled in.  Seems they got what they deserved.”

“I suppose.  Though I would have liked to have done it myself.”

“Didn’t picture you a killer, my lady?”

“Have you been living under a rock?”

“There is a difference between someone who has killed and a killer.  A solider who fights for his life and takes a life in the process is not a killer.  Someone who takes pleasure in the deaths of those they’ve killed are killers.”

She looks down at her palm.  It wasn’t too long ago that she killed her very first person.  She can still see his face.  Now she found herself enjoying taking a life with her own hands.  Self-defense or the defense of others made killing necessary.  She clear her mind of the thoughts and summons magic into her hands.  She passes it over every bruise and cut she can find.  Once she is fully healed, she drops the spell and returns her hands to her lap.  He pulls the glowing phylactery from his pocket and she flinches.

“Good.  Still trained.”

“Since we’re your prisoners, do we get to know where you are going?”

“No.”  He turns to leave and then stops.  “You know.  I can see why my men wanted you so desperately.  You are a very beautiful woman.”  He leaves the cage and locks the door behind him.

 _That’s it.  We’re going out of here today.  I will not seduce my way to freedom.  Not again.  And I refuse to sit around just waiting for them to try again.  Maybe when he is off somewhere that he can’t hear what’s happening.  Hell, they might just do it in here next time._   She shudders and returns her focus to the previous events in the Fade.

She doesn’t feel any different than before.  Her magic still feels the same as it always did.  Yet whatever was triggered in the Fade had affected her in the waking world.  _What did it feel like when that magic flowed into me?_   She repeats that question over and over in her head.  Nothing sticks out.  She didn’t remember if she felt it leave or settle down inside her.  She didn’t feel anything shift or unlock.

She growls in frustration and lays back on the floor.  The cage shakes and she watches the tree pass overhead.  They are moving again.  It seems her captors like to travel at night.  As they leave the wooded area, she hears a clap of thunder.  _Oh great.  Rain.  My favorite._   Thick clouds roll around in the sky.  She feels a few drops hit her face.  Then the sky opens up.  She hears Cullen wake in the cage next her.  A string of obscenities spill from his lips.  She sits up and cups her hands to collect the water.  She drinks it and sighs.  She hadn’t released how thirsty she was.  Her stomach rumbles.  She can’t remember the last time she ate anything more than a few crusts of bread since being captured.

She hears him cuss again.  “What is it, sweetheart?”

He stands on the bucket and peers down at her.  Her back is to him and her wet hair clings to her.  “How have you not noticed the water pooling around you?”

She looks around.  The rain isn’t draining from the cage and the downpour is slowly filling it.  She stands up and goes to their shared wall.  She stands on her bucket and looks up at him.  She wishes she were taller so that they could better see each other.  She reaches up and brushes a wet curl from his forehead.  “Maybe it’ll stop soon.”

“I sure hope so.”

“We won’t drown in here.  This gap around the top should give us enough room to breathe.  And it should leak from the door too.”

“How are you feeling?”

“You mean about… I’m alright.  I’ve been trying to figure out happened in the Fade.”

“When your eyes glowed?”

“Yes.”

“Any luck?”

She proceeds to tell him what happened in great detail.  “And so, I’ve spent the past few hours trying to figure it out.”

“Think it’s related to that other dream you keep having?”

“More than likely.  I just don’t know how.  In one my magic is being taken and in this one it seems I was given more.  If that’s the case, then Fen’Heral is trying to help, while this other being is trying to hurt me for some reason.”

He sighs, “First Mythal is real and now Fen’Heral.  Are all of the elven gods real?”

“Odds point to yes.”

“So, what if this is a rival of one of them?”

“From what little I know about the elven gods… if this being from the other dream is a rival, then it’s a rival to the Dread Wolf.  The Dalish view him as a warning.  Solas thought that maybe they were allies, the Wolf and Mythal.  Otherwise why would his statue be in her temple?”

“Andraste’s mortal husband, Maferath, had a statue in the Temple of Scared Ashes and he had betrayed her.”

“Abelas said that Fen’Heral was not responsible to Mythal’s death.”

“This is all a little over my head, love.  Maybe you should focus on the other part.  About Solas already providing you with the information you need to come a Dreamer.”

“I suppose you’re right.  If I can willingly walk the Fade, maybe the answers to my questions will be there.”

“I hope one of those answers is how to get out of here.”

She sighs and looks down at the rising water.  “Me too.”

***

The night passes slowly and Shea paces her cell.  The water is up to her waist and it is freezing.  This makes trying to remember all of her countless communications with Solas nearly impossible.  Their captors don’t seem to notice that the cages are slowly filling with water.  She is knocked over when the cage lurches and stops.  The cage rocks violently and red light flashes outside.  Cullen appears at the top of the wall.  “Are you alright?”

She stands.  “Wet and cold, but fine.  What’s happening out there?”

He looks around.  “I think our rescuers have caught up with us.  But it’s still too dark to tell.”

“Is this our moment?”

“It’s hard to say.”

Shouts ring out and a battle starts around them.  The cage rocks again as a fireball hits the side.  Something moves on the top of her cage.  She raises her hand to shine her mark on it and smiles brightly.  “Sera!”

“Takin’ a swim, Inky?”

“Oh you know me.  I just love the rain.  Can you pick the lock?”

She fires a few arrows and looks back down at her.  “No.  It’s stuck.  Sit tight.  We’ll get you out.”  She leaps off the top.  Shea rushes to the door and places her hands against it.  She pulls her magic into her hands.  Then it fades away quickly.

“Damn that man!”

“What is it?”

“My magic is gone again.”

He growls and paces his cell.  His door unlocks and he faces it.  The door opens and the water rushes out.  Men charge in and he tries to fight them off.  There are too many of them.  He takes a punch to the face and falls to the ground.  They pull his arms behind his back and clap him in irons.  They pull him up and shove him forward.  He stumbles and falls out of the cage.  She can hear them struggle and she hisses as a weight tries to settle over her.  She pushes against it.  Trying to get enough strength to blast the door from its hinges.  She groans and presses her hands against her head.  Her knees buckle and she splashes down to the floor.  The door swings open, the water rushes out, and Samuel steps in.  He grabs her and drags her out of the cage.  She sees it in his hand.  She feels her magic inside it.  _Is that how it works?  They pull a mage’s magic into the blood inside?_

She is reminded of the vision she had on the road.  _A way out._   She lunges forward and knocks it from his hand.  He backhands her and knocks her to the ground.  She reaches out again and he steps on her hand.  She can feel it calling to her.  Her magic being drawn to her hand.  He bends down and picks it up.  She cries out when he uses his abilities on it.  Every ounce of magic is pulled away from her.  He drags her through the mud and away from the battle that rages around them.  The lack of magic provides clarity.  She feels something shift inside her.  Something that feels old, something powerful.  Like the mark, it is completely separate from her magic.  She quickly looks around.  Her friends are fighting and killing enemies.  She spots Cullen being dragged, kicked, and shoved.  Samuel shouts, “Just kill him!  We don’t have time for this!”

Her rage licks at the ancient thing inside her, urging it to life.  Her magic normally make her feel warm when she uses it, but this new magic is cold.  Her blood turns to ice and she yanks her hand out his arm.  _One way out. One shot._   She pushes off the ground.  She faces him, the strange magic radiating from her body.  He tries everything he can to control her.  Blood oozes from her eyes as he holds tighter to her magic.  She reaches out her hand and the phylactery flies to her. 

Once it makes contact with her palm, she cracks the glass in her fist.  The full force of her magic joins the heightened surge already in her causing a concussive wave of fire and ice to burst from her like the impact of a stone shot from a trebuchet.  Anyone in a 20 foot radius gets blown back.  They smack into trees, collide with allies and enemies alike.  She stands stunned in the center of the blast, the whole world seems to move in slow motion.  Her eyes find Cullen kneeling in front of a man holding the sword she gave him.  He and his captors are unaffected by the magic she has released uncontrolled.  She rushes forward, but it too late.  The man stabs the sword through Cullen’s chest.  The blade sticks out his back and his chin sags against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I won't have to make you wait too long for the resolution of this cliffhanger!
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	13. Black Magic Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked really hard not to make you wait too long :D
> 
> Hope the last part of the chapter makes up for the cliffhanger!

A soul ripping scream erupts from her depths.  Her heart shatters and her mind dies.  Her body goes limp.  At the same moment, her mark flares and sparks.  Any control she ever had on her magic dissolves.  Shea is gone.  Something else has taken her place.  Her eyes glow and she glides forward.

Dorian spots her first as he rushes towards Cullen.  He holds out his arms to stop their advance.  She raises her hand and then men standing next to her Commander turn to ash.  The others skid to a stop behind him.  Dorian steps a little closer.  He wants desperately to help them, but he doesn’t know how.  His throat still hurts from the scream that came from him the same time hers did.  The battles still rages around them, Inquisition and Ostwick forces fighting these mystery men.  Yet for them, their friends, all they can do is watch as a heartbroken mage approaches her dead lover.

She stands in front of him.  He is still kneeling in that spot.  Blood seeps out of the corner of his mouth.  His eyes are open and lifeless.  She touches his shoulder and then grips it.  She grabs the sword and pulls it from his chest.  She places her marked hand over the hole in his heart.  Her magic empties into him.  Every single cell in her body squeezing out power.  A rift opens behind him.   Dorian and Moira rush forward.  They add their magic to hers, using her body as a conduit.  His blood moves back into his body and his wounds close.

The rift closes with a snap and her connection to her magic snaps with it.  She falls back on the ground.  When she hits, he gasps loudly.  He falls forward, coughing and gasping for air.  Dorian rushes towards him as Moira rushes to Shea.  She is unconscious, covered in sweat, but breathing.  The elf is certain that if she and Dorian hadn’t helped, she would have used the last of her magic to save him from death.

Dorian removes the shackles from his wrists and rubs his back.  “Are you… alright?”  Cullen coughs and tries to push himself off the ground.  He hurts all over.  It feels like a bronto is sitting on his chest.  He rolls onto his back and hisses.  His eyes fall onto the bloody sword next to him and it all comes flooding back.  His hands clutch at his chest.  He feels the warm wetness of fresh blood and the hole in the shirt.  His anxiety skyrockets.  Dorian places a hand on his shoulder.  “You need to calm down.”

“I should be dead.  I… I was dead!  I felt the sword go in!”

“Well, you aren’t.  We need to get the both of you out of here before something else happens.”  Dorian motions to Bull who comes over to them, giving the unconscious Shea a wide berth.  “He’s too weak to walk, Amatus.”

“I’ve got him.  But who’s going to carry her?”

Cullen looks around, “What happened?  Where is she?  Is she alright?”

“Calm down.  She’s… fine.  Unconscious, but fine.”

Bull gingerly scoops up Cullen.  Cassandra grabs his bloody sword off the ground and follows behind them as they flee the field.  Dorian scoops up Shea and holds her limp body close to his chest.  Moira brushes her wild auburn hair from her face.  He looks down at the elf.  “Any idea what that was?”

“No idea.  Whatever that was… I’ve never seen something that powerful.”

“She brought him back from the dead.  Do you think that rift brought his soul back or was she using it to gain more power?”

“Again.  No idea.”

“I’m not stranger to forbidden magic, but this… this scares me.  And I’m from Tevinter.”

She nods.  “I agree.  But she’s our friend… and… I hate to say it… but… maybe we should…”

“Restrain her?  Keep her separated from him and others?  After what we just witnessed, I’m not entirely sure it’s possible.”

“We could use those cages.  Not to keep her prisoner, but to aid our escape.  Lock the one who held her phylactery in one of them so we can question him later.  It’s what she would want I think.”

He nods. Cassandra rushes up to them.  “Hurry up.  We’ve taken their leader and locked him one of those cages.”

“Should we lock her up too?”

Cassandra eyes her limp body.  “Until we know if she is wholly herself, yes.  Now, let’s move.”

***

Two days pass.  Cullen paces the hallway outside the locked room she is in.  A prisoner in her own home.  They all have so many questions and they all fear her.  He doesn’t.  He just wants to see her.  She saved his life.  He was dead, or at least dying, and he has nothing more than two painful scars to remind how close he had come.  He found breathing and being on his feet for more than a few minutes difficult.  The healers are more than surprise that he is even vertical.  No one will tell him anything about her condition or that of their child.  So, against the wishes of everyone, he paces outside the door in the dead of night.  His longing to see her stronger than the burning in his chest.

Moira and a Dalish hunter round the corner.  He stops his pacing when he sees her.  “You should be in bed.”

“I could say the same to you.”

She walks towards him and looks around.  “You here to see her too?”

He exhales and smiles.  “Yes.”

She nods to the elf next to her and he kneels in front of the door.  She looks at Cullen.  “How’s… your…?”

“My chest and back are fine.  There’s some pain, but I guess that’s what happens when you get stabbed through the heart.”  He looks at the door.  “I need answers.  Answers that only she can give.”

“We can’t tell anyone about what happened to you.  Or even what she did.  It should be impossible.  Yet here you stand.  Cassandra has forbidden anyone from entering this room.  But she is not in charge of me.  And she does not command this castle.  Brandon does.  He’s providing the distraction while we break in.  He wants to know she is ok as much as we do.”  The lock clicks and the hunter stands.  Moira nods to him and he disappears down the hall.  “After you.”

Cullen steps into the darkened room.  His heart flatters when he spots her silhouette.  She is standing in front of the open window.  Her back to the room and her arms are crossed over her chest.  A breeze blows in and catches the loose strands of her hair.  Moira follows him in before quietly closing the door behind her.

“Not afraid of me then?”  Her voice doesn’t sound like hers.  He looks back at Moira.  She nods and stands ready by the door.

“She knows I would never be afraid of her.”

She turns to face him.  The bluish glow from her eyes lights up the room.  Her sight falls on Moira first, “Do not fear me, da’len, for I will not harm you.”

Moira growls, “What have you done with her then?”

“She and her child are safe and protected in the Beyond.  For the time being, at least.”

“Is she… are they…?”

She smirks, “No.  They are safe, as I said.  Her body is not ready to receive them just yet.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She moves and sits in the chair by the window.  She crosses her legs.  She pulls open the collar of the torn blue dress.  In the center of her chest is a hole that matches his wound.  “This is how she saved you and I was sent to heal the damage.  She didn’t open that rift.  I did.”

Moira leans against the door.  “Who… who are you?”

“I am not permitted to say.  But suffice it to say, that I am an ally.  Healing the both of them until it is safe to return them here.”

Cullen crosses the room and sits in a chair across from her.  “But they are alive?”

“Yes.  Just sleeping.”

“What are you then?  A spirit?  A demon?”

She laughs. “You have never met my like before, shemlen.  And you likely never will.”

Moira steps forward.  “Da’len?  Shemlen?  You are elven?”

“More so than even you I think.  It has been far too long since your kind has forgotten the magic of old.  Left it to decay in the dust.  And even I am but a remnant.”

“What does that even mean?”

She stands and moves to Moira.  She backs into the wall and Cullen stands from his chair.  Shea looks over at him.  “Sit down.  This doesn’t concern you.”  He plops back down in the chair but continues to stare.  Shea offers Moira her hand.  “Use your magic on me, da’len.  You’re answers lay within.”

Moira looks over at Cullen and then summons magic into her hand.  She opts for healing magic, taking the opportunity to heal Shea’s body during this exchange.  She hovers her hand over Shea’s and gasps.  “You… you aren’t being entirely truthful.  You make it sound as if you are a separate being.  But you aren’t.  You are magic.  Shea’s magic mixed with something else.  Something familiar.  And yet ancient.”

She nods, “She is not possessed.  She will never be possessed unless she wills it.  This is a one-time thing.  Should something like this happen again, she will die.  I should thank you and that other mage for assisting.  Bring someone back from the Beyond is no small feat.  I may not have been able to save her if you hadn’t.”

Cullen growls in frustration.  “Enough riddles.  Tell me what’s going on.”

Moira looks at him.  “This being… isn’t an actual being.  It’s a part of Shea’s magic.  And part of the Foci’s magic combined.  One of the Creators stored their magic in the orb.  When it entered Shea during the battle, it used her elven blood to make her a mage and then this part just sits dormant.  If she were to die it would return to the Beyond seeking its original master.  Granted this is just a theory I just made up on the spot, but with the information I’ve gathered and then this interaction… I’m fairly certain that’s right.”

Shea nods.  “That’s an apt if not overly simplified description.”

Cullen shake his head.  “Just answer me plainly.  What are you?”

She looks at him.  “There is not a name for what I am.  Not anymore.  If she didn’t have direct access to the Fade with her Anchor, then I wouldn’t exist and she would be dead.  And once she returns, she will be not be able to summon me in this way again or even be remotely aware of my existence in this form.”

“She did this?”

“In a way.  The ways of old have a way of sticking around.  Even for you, da’len.”

She returns to the chair and Moira sits on the arm of Cullen’s.  “So, I could do this too?”

She laughs, “Of course not.  You are far too removed from the time before to access it.  Though a piece of what was lives within all Elvhen.”

Moira nods.  “You are a remnant of Arlathan then?”

“If it helps you to think of it that way, sure.  I cannot be easily explained and I grow tired of this conversation.”

Cullen stands.  “Will you leave her once she is returned to her body?”

“Again.  It is not easily explained.   In fact, there is no explanation on how I came to be.  Only the Evanuris know how to do it.”

“Can you at least give an estimate on how long this will take?”

She looks down at herself.  “A few days.  She is healing rapidly thanks to her strong connection to the Fade.  I would be healing her still had I not heard you at the door.”

“So, if you are left undisturbed, she’ll heal faster?”

“Yes.”

Cullen moves towards the door and Moira follows him.  “Then… I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.  Someone might come in and I know I will come back.  Feel free to ignore any and all visitors in favor of healing her.  Then you won’t have to explain yourself every time.”

“A sound plan, shemlen.  I can see why she wanted to save you so desperately.”

He stops and turns to face her.  “How dead was I exactly?”

“You weren’t, not exactly, but one more second and you would have been beyond her reach.  Though she would have died trying.  Now, go.  She needs to rest.”

They leave the room and close the door behind them.  They are both reluctant to leave but relieved to be out of the sight of those glowing eyes.  Moira looks over at him.  “Has anyone tried to continue healing you?”

“What?  Oh… uh.  No.  I think they are a little scared of me too.”

“I don’t see why.  You can’t bring people back from the dead.  Everyone knows that.  It seems obvious to me that you weren’t completely dead when she healed you.”

They hear footsteps running down the hall.  They stand against the wall as Cassandra rounds the corner.  “Commander.  You should be in bed, not trying to break into her room.”

“I think you know I’m incapable of that right now.”

“And Moira, I thought we said no one was to go in that room, especially him.”

She shrugs, “And I agreed to it.  Why do you think I’m here?”  Cassandra turns the knob on the door and discovers that it is still locked.  “See?  No harm done.  Though I’m sure the Commander would feel a little better if people were actually tending to the Inquisitor and not just letting her lay in there.”

He nods.  “She shouldn’t be a prisoner.  She is our leader and the heir to the throne here.  How do you think her brother will feel when he hears of this?”

As if on cue, Brandon rounds the corner.  “Hears of what exactly?”

Cassandra spins around, “Teyrn Trevelyan!  I can explain!”

“Explain why the woman who just made passionate love to me and then left is standing with my future brother in-law and our Dalish ally in front of a guest room that hasn’t been assigned to anyone?  Yes, I think you should.”

“It’s… complicated.”

He chuckles, “Honestly Cassie, you can’t possibly expect me not to know about this did you?”

Cullen covers his mouth to hold in his laughter.  Cassandra glares at him before turning back to Brandon.  “You’ve been reading my reports again.”

He shrugs.  “Guilty.  I wouldn’t have to if you were more open about what was happening in _my_ domain.  Has anyone even checked on my sister?”

“We’ve had healers look her over.  She appears to be fine.”

Cullen scoffs.  They look at him and Moira elbows him.  “I find that hard to believe, Cassandra.  So far as I can tell everyone is afraid of her.”

“That’s not true.  We are just… taking precautions.”

Brandon crosses his arms over his chest.  “Then let me see what exactly requires such precautions.”

Cassandra sighs and unlocks the door.  Brandon motions for Cullen to go first.  He walks in the dark room and Shea is laying with her hands folded on her stomach on the small bed.  He sits next to her head and brushes the hair from her face.  Even knowing she isn’t in there right now, it makes him feel better to touch her.  Cassandra, Brandon, and Moira all come in the room before closing the door.  Brandon moves to stand by Cullen.  He pats him on the back and Cullen hisses.  “Maker.  I’m sorry.  Are you hurt?”

“You read Cassandra’s report right?”  Brandon nods.  “Then you know that it was nearly more than just hurt.”

“It said she had healed you.”

“Mostly, but not completely.”

Brandon squeezes his shoulder.  “That’s at least something.  How does she look?”

“Pale.  With the moment of magic she used, she could probably do with a few vials of lyrium.  More than that, I don’t know.”

He looks at Moira and she comes up to the other side of the bed.  She hovers her hands over Shea.  She gasps and drops her magic.  Cassandra steps forward.  “What is it?”

Moira winks at Cullen, so that he knows she’s acting.  Moira reaches forward and pulls down the torn part of her dress.  The others gasp when they see the wound on her chest.  Cassandra looks over at Cullen.  He quickly unlaces his shirt to reveal the bright red mark on his chest.  It matches hers perfectly.  “That’s how she saved you?  I’ve never seen magic like that.”

Moira nods.  “It must be elven.  Because I’ve seen blood magic and it would never be able to do this.”

“Can you heal her?”

“I’ll need help, but I think so.”  Moira places her hand on Shea’s chest and attempts to heal her.  “It doesn’t go all the way through.  I think if she had healed him all the way it would have.”  She removes her hand and leans on the bed.  She examines the wound.  “Well, it’s a little smaller now.  But that’s all I can do for now.  If we get more mages on this, it’ll go much faster.”

“And the baby?”

Moira places her hand on Shea’s stomach.  “Baby seems perfectly fine.”

They all sigh.  Cassandra looks at Cullen.  “Perhaps we can have her brought to your room.  That seems safe enough.”

“Thank you.”

Brandon nods.  “I’ll have someone bring up some rags and water.  All that mud can’t be good for her.”

“Any luck with our prisoner?”

Cassandra shakes her head.  “We can’t ask him a whole lot right now.  His injuries are too painful.  We have the healers working on him.  Hopefully he will survive longer enough for us to get something useful out of him.”

“I certainly hope so.  After this attempt to take her, I doubt the next one will be a mission to capture her alive.”

***

Shea sits watching the clouds float overhead.  She doesn’t know how long she’s been in this field talking to herself and drawing pictures in the sky.  It could be hours or it could be days.  She finds herself not caring though, because she knows without a doubt that she is in the Fade.  But not just any old piece of the Fade.  Your own piece.  Designed and controlled by her.  She doesn’t really know how she managed it, but here she is dreaming away. 

Though maybe it wasn’t a dream. She may have created this field and this sky, but she couldn’t go anywhere else.  Still she lays back in the grass and finds the shape of a bunny in the clouds.  She rests her hand on her stomach.  Then it hits her.  Every time she has been in the Fade, her stomach has been flat.  Now, she is pregnant.  She sits up and looks down at herself.  She is just as pregnant here as she is in the waking world.  _Could this be your dream?  Is that even possible?_

She rubs her belly and coos, “Is this your doing, little one?”

Wind blows in her face and the world around her changes.  She is in her bedroom at Skyhold.  She smiles.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She feels the baby move under her hand.  “This is our room in Skyhold.  Where Mommy and Daddy live.  How do you know what it looks like?”

The world shifts again.  She is in the garden at Ostwick, watching the ducks.  Then world shifts again as Shea reacts negatively to it.  It lands on a campfire.  She looks around.  “One of our camps in the Emerald Graves.  Beautiful and peaceful.  But also a little sad.  It doesn’t have the best history.”

She rubs her belly and the world shifts back to the clouded field.  _How is it doing that?  Creating places in the Fade is has never seen?  Altering the Fade at all for that matter?  Does this mean my baby is a mage already and it isn’t even born yet?  Who would know the answers to these question?_

She gets up off the ground and walks around.  She looks around imaging what else the baby might know about.  The world shifts again and she’s standing on a sand dune in the Hissing Wastes.  _Ok.  Maybe this isn’t the baby.  Maybe this is me.  How would I be able to tell?_   She closes her eyes and pictures her cabin in Haven.  The world shifts and sure enough there she is. 

“Well, damn.  Still doesn’t explain why I can’t go anywhere or why I’m suddenly pregnant in the Fade.”

The world shifts back to the peaceful field.  Her baby moves and she places her hand on her belly.

“What is it, love?”  Her belly vanishes out from under her hand.  She looks down and feels her stomach.  Her heart jumps into her chest.  “What happened?  Where did it go?”

The world starts crumbling around her.  “What the fuck is happening?”  She tries to flee from the blackness that appears below the collapsing ground, but some sort of invisible barrier stops her.  The ground crumbles below her feet and she falls.

Her eyes fly open and she gasps for air.  She feels arms wrap around her.  He kisses the side of her face and she sighs.  She falls back and lets him surround her.  Her hands move to her stomach and she sighs again.  “Everything is fine.  You’re both here.”

He holds her closer though his body protests.  “Yes we are.”

She turns in his grasp and kisses him.  He hisses when she presses on his chest but he doesn’t let her pull away.  He hasn’t kissed her in five days.  He has counted and documented every moment of their capture and the aftermath in his mind.  He won’t let pain keep him from this.  She laughs against his mouth.  He reluctantly pulls away.  “I take it I was out for a long while.”

“Yes.  You were.  It’s been four days since you saved my life.”

She swallows hard.  “Saved your life?  What do you mean saved your life?”

“You… you don’t remember?”

“The last thing I remember is getting my phylactery back and crushing it.  After that, there’s nothing but the Fade.”

“Seriously?”

She sits up.  “Cullen.  What happened?”

He looks away from her.  Instead of waiting for an answer, she tugs on the laces of his shirt and forces it open.  “Shea don’t.”  She gasps and covers her mouth.  She gently touches the inflamed mark on the center of his chest.  The memory comes rushing back.

“Oh.  Maker.  You were… they… but how are you still alive?”

“I’ve been asking myself that questions for days.  I should be.  It went all the way through.  I felt it go through.  Everything went white and then black.  Then I’m coughing my lungs out on the ground next to my bloody sword.  My sword with my blood on it.  To hear Dorian tell it, your eyes glowed pale blue and every ounce of magic you had, the mark, her mage abilities, and something else entirely, poured into me.  They thought it was blood magic at first, but now we’re not so sure.”

“Brought you back to life?  For death?”

“I wasn’t completely dead yet.  But almost.”

“But that much magic should have…”

He hooks the front of her shirt and pulls in down.  She looks down at her chest and sees a shimmering line that matches his.  “Holy shit!”

“You transferred it somehow.  Some ancient elven magic woke up inside you and prevented you from killing yourself.  The healers, Moira, Dorian, and this magic have been working to heal you for two days.  They were scared to touch you before that.”

“How do you know all this?”

“As strange as it sounds, Moira and I spoke to it.  It felt the need to explain what happened.”

She feels tears well up in her eyes.  “Are you saying I’m possessed?”

He sits up a little too fast and hisses.  “No!  No, my love.  This is magic from the orb.  Ancient elven magic that doesn’t even have a name anymore.  But not a spirit or demon or anything like that.  It’s weird though.  It felt like you when it was talking, except more… elven.  It had your personality a little bit, but not your voice.  It was a last resort.  A safety measure.  Because without it, Moira, and Dorian, you would have died trying to save me.”

“So, I’m not possessed, I just have some weird ancient elven magical being living inside of me.”

He chuckles.  “According to Moira, it’s made up of your magic and the magic of the god who made that orb.”

“So, it’s part me, part Fen’Heral.  That makes it sound like I’ve had a kid with the Dread Wolf.”  She touches his chest and gently runs her fingers over his wound.  “Has anyone tried to heal it?”

“No.  I’ve been making them focus on you.”

“Then let me.”

He takes her hand.  “Maybe you shouldn’t.  You’ve only just woken from a magically induced coma.  You should take it easy.”

“Cullen.  I feel more energized magically than I have in a long time.  I can do it.”

“Well… alright.  But the second you feel drained you need to stop.”

“As you wish.  Lay back and relax.”  He lays down and she covers the wound with her hands.  She closes her eyes and her magic begins to flow.  He can feel something different about it.  She can too.  It’s not warm like it was.  But it isn’t cold either.  Luke warm, room temperature, completely unremarkable.  It still tingles as it touches his skin and flows through him, but it’s not what he has become accustomed to.  He wants to say something about it, but the concentration on her face stops him.

“It pierced your heart and one of you lungs.  Have you been having trouble breathing?”

“Yes.”

“There are some lacerated muscles in your back and chest.  As well as a chipped rib.  Andraste’s tits.  Why has no one checked you?”

“I guess they assumed you did the job.”

“Just barely.  Maker, if you had done anything too strenuous… this will take time.  But I can at least take care of the surface wounds and get started on the rest.  Who gave the order not to heal you?”

He sighs, “Shea.  You have to realize that our friends just saw you seemingly bring a man back from death.  They know that can’t be what happened, but that’s what it looks like.  They were scared of both of us.”

She doesn’t stop healing him as she grits her teeth in frustration.  Her actions should not be impacting him like this.  He wasn’t dead.  She could feel that before she even started.  It wasn’t her first time bringing something back from the brink of death, something she would remind them of when she went to berate them for not tending to his injuries. 

“At least you aren’t dead.  I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t worked.”

He smirks.  “I thought you didn’t remember anything.”

“Fine.  You caught me.  I remember most of it.  I don’t remember healing you, but I remember… I fought so hard to get to you.  I was so close to performing blood magic just to get there.  But I didn’t need to.  That ancient magic you were talking about… I couldn’t feel it until that templar, Samuel, tried to lock my magic down.  I mean eyes bleeding, absolute zero, blood on fire, locked down.  That was when I could feel it.  All that time mediating and it took a fucking templar torturing me to get it to surface. I’m not sure how phylacteries are supposed to work.  Is it as simple as pulling the mage’s magic into the vial?  I supposed it doesn’t matter, but that’s what it felt like to me.  So, I pulled from it like I do the mark.  I wasn’t anticipating the loss of control when they joined together at full force, and I hope I didn’t hurt any of our people.  The world around me was in slow motion but you weren’t.  Maybe you were too far away from me to be effected.  I watched it happen as I ran and then screamed.  That’s it.  I don’t remember anything else.”

“Dorian saw it firsthand.  He can tell you more about it.  I never saw what was happening with you, though I tried.  Then I heard him say the sentence that meant the end for me.  I wished you weren’t there to see it, even though I wanted to see your face one last night.”

“Shh.  Don’t think about that.  You are alive and on the mend.  The only concern here is me and what this new development in my magic indicates.”  She removes her hands from his chest.  “I can keep going.  I have plenty of reserve, but it’s your call.”

He looks down at his chest.  There isn’t a single sign of damage.  He shifts around and he feels great.  No pain in his back or chest.  He sits up and pulls her in close.  She places a steady hand on his chest.  She lightly kisses him before pulling back.  “Your heart and lung still have a ways to go until they are healed.  So, no strenuous activities.”

He groans and rests his forehead on hers.  “Then maybe I should let you heal me all the way.”

“I might need lyrium.”

“Then do what you can now.  Then we’ll go down for breakfast, get some lyrium, and then you can finish healing the both of us.”

“I am healed as much as I can possibly get.”

“You don’t know that until you try.”  She places her hand on her chest.  Sure enough the shimmering line vanishes.  “I told you.”

She shakes her head.  “My healing magic is a lot stronger than it was before.  I wonder what else is different.”

“They’ll be plenty of time for that.”  He throws the blanket off of him and stands up.  He pulls on his boots and laces his shirt.  He looks back at her.  “Fair warning.  They might be a little awkward around you until they know how you did it.”

“I could tell them the truth.  At least as far as we know it right now.”

“Which is what exactly?”

“They already know my magic stems from ancient elves.  I’ll just say that some ancient elven mana surge right when I needed most helped me heal you _before_ you died.  Think that’ll be enough?”

“Only one way to find out.”  She climbs off the bed and quickly throws on one of her dresses.

***

By the end of the day, Cullen is completely recovered from being run through, much to everyone’s surprise.  That night Brandon throws a celebratory diner.  The whole court gathers to celebrate this victory.  Cullen sits next to Brandon, who is at the head of the table.  He makes eye contact with Shea across the table and she nods.  “Teyrn Trevelyan.  I have given it a lot of thought.”

“About taking on the title of Bann?  I hope it’s good news.”

“It is.”  He looks at her and she smiles.  “I will accept under a few conditions.”

Brandon smiles and sets his drink on the table.  He settles back in his chair and throws his leg over the arm rest. “Oh this should be good.  Let’s hear it.”

“I want to run it properly.  That village is full of good men and women who deserve a Bann who actually cares about them.”

“Agreed.  I will personally see to having you trained in controlling lands of your own.  As they will be yours.  And will be passed down for generations.”

“Furthermore, I think that village needs a name.”

“Again.  I agree.  All the other outlying villages have names.  They typically are named after the lord who founded the village and became the first Bann.  So, what would you name it?  Cullen Town?”

“Oh.  I hadn’t thought it out that far.”

Shea chuckles.  “Don’t like Cullen Town?”

He laughs.  “Not particularly.”

Shea rubs her chin.  “What about Stanton?”

“After my father?”

Shea coughs a bit.  “I didn’t know that was your father’s name.”

“Oh.  I guess I never told you.  But yes.  Normally, it’s a family middle name given to the second born, but Father told me once that his mother couldn’t come up with a first name she liked better, so she named him that.  But do you think that’s a good name for a village?  Seems a little egotistical to me.”  He takes a sip from his glass as they try to think of a name.  A lot of places he knew where named based on what the land looked like.  The land was flat and perfect for farm land.  He couldn’t see each end of it from the village. He really needed to see a map and have it defined for him.  He had seen farmland from high up.  It looked like a patchwork quilt from the window in Kinloch Hold.  This one would probably be no different.  The people were a mix of native Ferelden and those born in the Free Marches.  He liked the way ‘Feral Marches’ sounded, but it also made them sound like barbarians.  She smiles at him.  “What?”

“Oh, nothing.  I just like looking at you.”

He smirks.  “True enough, but there’s mischievousness in that smile that I know all too well.”

“It’s perfectly innocent I assure you.  I was just thinking about how Bann Rutherford sounds.”

He shakes his head.  “It sounds strange.”

Brandon leans forward.  “What’s wrong with Stanton?”

“It’s hard enough taking on a title.  I don’t care for the idea of naming a village after myself on top of that.”

Shea inhales sharply.  “Some call you’re the Lion of Honnleath.”

“Who calls me that?!”

“Orlesians mostly.  But my point is we can use that.”

“How?”

“Well, those people take pride in what they’ve built.  A group of lions is called a pride.”

“Yes, but Pride is also the name of a type of demon.”

She sighs.  “Why is naming something so hard?”

“You think this is hard, just wait until our child is born.”  She groans and takes a drink from her cup.  She looks into his eyes.  She smiles.  “What?”

“Golden Grove.”

He smiles.  “Where did you come up with that?”

“Your eyes, of course.”

Brandon claps his hands.  “Oh!  I like that!”

“Do you think they’ll like it?”

“It’s a great name!”

He nods.  “Then that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Great!   Any other conditions I should know about?”  He thinks for a moment.  He can’t think of anything else, so he shakes his head.  “Excellent!”  Brandon pushes back from the table and stomps his foot loudly.  Silence slowly falls over the hall as people look at him.  “I have an announcement to make!  As you know, I’ve been looking for someone to take over as Bann for me.  Well, I’ve done something a little differently.  Not only do I have someone to be Bann, but I am giving him half my family’s land.”  People gasp and murmur amongst themselves.  “We’ll make this official in the morning, but ladies and gentlemen of the court, allow me to present Bann Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”  People actually applaud when Cullen stands up.  He bows to them and to Brandon before sitting back down.  Brandon chuckles, “You’ll have to forgive Bann Rutherford.  He’s not a man of any words.  Furthermore, the village on our land will henceforth be known as Golden Grove.”

Cullen leans forward.  “What is the other part of your land used for?”

Shea leans forward.  “Our estate, though we never use it, and vineyard.”

“Vineyard?”

“Didn’t I say?  Father was in the wine business.”

He shakes his head and sits back.  Brandon sits and then it begins.  His first night as a noble.  Men and women keep coming up to him to greet him and shake his hand.  There is no way he is going to remember all these names.  He meets every Bann in Ostwick in a matter of minutes and he couldn’t even tell you how many there were.  He feels like a fool.  A fish swimming in shark infested waters.  Shea on the other hand finds him charming.  His voice is strong as are his hand shakes.  He is going to need lessons in the Game to keep from saying things that might come back to bite him in the ass, but for his first social event as a noble, he is going remarkably well.

As the diner comes to a close, she hooks her arm in his.  He excuses himself for the noble he is talking to and smiles at his rescuer.  “Thank the Maker you showed up when you did.”

“You never want to be the first or last to leave a party.  Since Bann Carlson and his dear wife have just left, that makes it alright for us to leave.  Though if we were hosting this little dinner, we’d be forced to stay until most of the guest have left.  Well, one of us would have to and it’s typically the master of the house.”

“So, you would leave me to the wolves?”

She chuckles.  “Never.  But from the way things are looking, you might be here on your own at times.”

“We can figure all that out later.”

“Indeed.  Care to turn in for the night?”

He pulls her in close as the make their way from the dining room.  His lips graze her ear as he whispers, “Is that a euphemism, love?”

She chuckles.  “It wasn’t intended as such, but now that you mention it…” She stops in the hallway and turns to face him.  She places her hand on his chest.  His heart pounds strongly under her touch.  She summons her magic and checks him over.  She smirks.  “We’ll need to be careful, but I think we can manage.”

He laces his fingers in hers and leads her up the stairs to their room.  Once they arrive, she barely has time to close the door before he is on her.  His lips mash against hers.  She reaches behind her to lock the door.  She melts against his eager mouth.  It is hard for her to believe that just days ago he had a sword shoved through his chest.  He feels her shudder.  “What is it?”

“Nothing.  Just a passing morbid thought.”

“Hmm.  Well, try not to think about that.”

She chuckles.  “I’ll try.”  He pulls her back in and wraps his arms around her.  Their lips meet again.  Heat rolls off them as the spring evening heats the room.  He backs her into the bed.  His need for her is palpable.  She can feel it in his kiss and his touch.  There will be no games tonight.  The only problem she can see is the best way to do this with her ever growing belly.  His fingers fumble with the laces on her side.  He is still not used to her new attire.  She smirks against his lips and proceeds to do it herself.  He lifts the dress over her head once it has been sufficiently loosened.  She is already standing before him completely bare as she didn’t bother putting on her under things.

He moans at the sight of her.  He spots a few bruises left over from their capture and lightly presses them.  She passes her magic over them as he touches them, clearing her skin of the imperfections.  He smirks.  “Think your new super mage powers can heal your scars?”

She kisses him.  “I wouldn’t want to.  I’ve come to like them in my own way.”  He brushes the scar on her thigh with his fingers.  She sighs happily.  “Especially when you do that.”

He brushes his lips across hers and then up the side of her face.  He presses his lips along her scar and she sighs.  Her hands tug the laces of his shirt and then pulls the tucked in material out of his pants.  She pulls it over his head and immediately kisses the center of his chest.  Her hands trail up his sides and tease his nipples.  He moans and presses himself against her.  His aching member pushing painfully against his breeches.  She kisses the expanse of his chest.  Nipping at the heated skin and licking his hardened mounds.  He runs his fingers through her long wavy hair, slightly missing the way it used to curl around his fingers.  Her deft fingers have loosened his pants and undone his belt.  She shoves her hands down the back and grabs his toned ass.  He moans and relishes her attention.

She turns him around and pushes him backwards on the bed.  She admires the way his muscles react as he makes contact.  She grabs his foot and pulls of his boot and sock.  She removes the other set.  She yanks on his pants and he lifts his hips to help her.  She laughs remembering the first time she tried to take his pants off.  “What’s so funny?”

“Just having a pleasant flashback.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking about the first time I tried to get your pants off by myself.”  She gives them another tug and they come down lower.  “I’m no better at it now than I was back them either.”

“When was this?”

“You were unconscious at the time.  After you hit your head.  I was trying to make you feel more comfortable and I was helping Adan, but Maker was it difficult.”

“I can imagine.  Fortunately, I’m awake now.”  He hooks his thumbs in his waistband and slides them down as she pulls them off.  She smiles down at his near naked body.  The outline of his dick clearly visible through his smalls.  She licks her lips and runs her hands up his hairy thighs.  She works his underwear down and she bites her lip as his dark blonde curls come into view.  Moments later he springs free of his confines, his erection standing tall and proud. She slides his smalls all the way down his legs.

She feels naughty doing this in her childhood bedroom.  Doing something she hadn’t even imagined doing in this room.  She hadn’t even touched herself until she had met Cullen.  She climbs up on the bed and lays beside him.  She kisses him tenderly.  “I remembered something else.”

“Oh?”

“Did you know I’ve never done anything sexual in this room?”

“Really?”

“Until I met you, I’d never even touched myself because it was sinful.”

He rolls onto his side and traces her curves.  “Even though you didn’t believe?”

“Right.  I’m not sure why it never happened.  It was worth the wait I’d say.”

She kisses him and rolls him back onto his back.  She straddles him and kisses down his neck.  “Taking charge tonight?”

She looks up at him while kissing his chest.  “Did you have something else in mind?”

He sits up and wraps his arms around her back.  He can feel the heat coming off slick center as she straddles his thighs.  He buries his face in the crook of her neck.  Kissing and nipping her overheated skin.  She moans and grips his biceps.  He grips her hips and moves her back onto the bed.  He scoots to the edge and stands.  She bites her lip and looks up at him.  “What do you want to do to me, my lord?”

He rumbles at his new title.  It sounded so good coming from her mouth.  He roughly grabs her legs and pulls her to edge of the bed.  He pushes her legs apart.  She squirms against the bed.  His hands are on her knees, staring down at the beautiful valley before him.  The auburn curls between her legs call his name.  He runs his hands down her inner thighs and spreads open her folds with his thumbs.  She whimpers her need for him.  He can’t decide what he wants more, to taste her wetness or to fuck her.  Her teases her pearl and she moans.  He sees the muscles of her sex flex and release begging to be filled.  He steps forward and plunges into her depths.  She cries out and reaches up to him.  He takes her hands and pulls her up to him.  She wraps her arms around his waist and slides her hands to his ass.  He thrusts hard and deep.  She pants and moans fill the room.  She squeezes his cheeks, feeling them flex as he ravishes her.

As the first orgasm rushes through her, she gets an idea she hopes he’ll enjoy.  She sucks and licks her finger.  He watches her with interest as her spit coats the digit.  She reaches around and uses her dry hand to spread his cheeks.  She massage the tight knot between them with her slick finger.  He moans at the strange sensation.  He swallows hard and tries to relax, knowing what she wants to do to him.  She presses against the tight muscle.  He slows his motions and leans forward slightly to give her better access.  She smirks and kisses him.  Her finger slides inside him.  He moans and she waits from him to adjust to the first segment.  She moves it in further.  He clinches around her and she rubs his back.  Finally she shoves it all the way in.  He moans and his head drops forward.

She slowly begins moving her finger in and out.  His thrusts resume.  They grind against each other as she fingers him.  She feels a little ball inside of him and strokes.  He moans loudly and his body shudders.  She rubs the ball and his breath hitches.  He rests his head on her shoulder and whispers her name.  She continues to move her finger and he tightens his grips on her.  He moans into her shoulder.  “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”  She pulls her finger out and pushes him up.

She stands and points to the bed.  He takes a deep breath and climbs up.  He lays on his back.  She curls her finger at him and he scoots forward.  She runs her hands up his thighs and pushes his knees up.  He plants his feet on the bed and grips the sheets.  She spits in her hand and uses it to lubricate his opening.  She slides one finger in.  He moans.  She swirls her finger around to loosen him up and then adds a second finger.  She wraps her fingers around him and strokes his length.  “Oh Shea…”

She massages the mound of flesh inside him.  “You like this?”

“Maker.  Yes.”  She increases the speed of her efforts.  He writhes and moans before her.  She watches his face turn red and he eyes squeeze closed.  She presses firmly against the knot and he cries out.  The most intense orgasm he’s ever had rushes through him.  His seed fountains from him and splatters his stomach and chest.  She continues work his ass and shaft while he cums.  His eyes open and she smiles at him.  She feels the little aftershocks roll through his body.  His erection begins to fade in her grasp.  Her smiles turns to a smirk.

“Shea?”

She moves her fingers into his ass with renewed interest.  He moans and closes his eyes.  His erection grows and she strokes him.  He isn’t even fully erect when he cums the second time.  He gasps for air and his seed dribbles down his half hard cock.  Once his high dies down, she slides her fingers from him.  He looks up at her.  She bends down and begins licking him clean.  His cock twitches but there’s not enough energy left in him to pay it much mind.  

“Damn it, Shea.  You’re going to be the death of me.”

She sniggers as she licks up his chest.  “I think at this point, we know that’s not true.”  When he is finally clean, she crawls up him.  Her lips shine from her efforts.  He pulls her face down and kisses her.  He can taste himself on her lips.  She smirks and pulls away.  She looks pleased with herself.

“So, one orgasm was enough for you?”

“Seeing you like that, at my mercy, and knowing that I drove you crazy,” she hums and closes her eyes, “that’s not something I’ll forget anytime soon.”

He reaches up and strokes her face.  “That’s how I felt the first time I watched you cum.”  She rolls off him and settles against his side.  He wraps his arm around her and traces the curves of her face with his other hand. He chuckles, “Dorian is going to be so jealous when you tell him.”

“You want me to tell him?”

“And I want to be there when you do.  And I want it to be in great detail.”

“Bull will probably be with him.”

“That’s fine.  Let them both be jealous.  Let them both salivate over it.  I want no detail left out.”

She blushes then smirks.  “What would you do if I actually did that?”

“Probably blush a lot.”  He yawns.  Without speaking another word, they shift their positions to lay on the bed properly.  The cover up and snuggle close together.  “Do you think I’ll be sore tomorrow?”

“Possibly.  I sure was, but then again I didn’t fuck you like you fucked me that first time.”

“True.”  He looks over at her and then rolls onto his side.  “Do you think they make stuff that would… allow you to fuck me like that?”

“My, my.  Now that’s an idea.  I’ll have to do some… research.”

He smirks and pulls her tight against his chest.  “Good night, my love.”

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep the comments coming! I live for them!!
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	14. Journey To The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. School and life got in the way. I haven't abandoned this and have no plans to!

“You have to go.  You’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

She rests her head on his bare chest.  She is holding his shirt behind her back.  “I really don’t want to go to Denerim without you.”

He kisses the top of her head.  “I know, love, but I have work to do here and then I have go to Skyhold.  Josephine is drowning in paperwork.”

She sighs.  “Are we still going to South Reach?”

“This shouldn’t alter those plans, but I will have to meet you there.”

She groans and hands him his shirt.  “This sucks.”

He chuckles.  “You’re the one who wanted me to say yes.  And I do have a job to do that I have been neglecting for weeks.”

“Are you taking that templar with you?”

“Yes.  Leliana wants to question him herself.  I don’t know how she’s getting away from the Chantry, but if anyone can it’s her.”

“Which means your trip to Skyhold will take much longer?”

“Not necessarily.  I plan on leaving from the port here, landing in Jadar, and then transporting him to Skyhold.”

“I would feel much better about this if you weren’t going to be alone with him.”

He nods.  “What other alternative is there? The men we have here need to stay here in order to help protect your brother.  We don’t know who can be trusted and since I am part of his council now, I have to keep his safety in mind more than ever.”

“We could travel with you.  At least most of the way.  And I can send Bull with you.”

He chuckles.  “Is this your way of staying with me longer?”

She runs her fingers through his chest hair.  “Maybe a little.”

“You really shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”

“One more day isn’t going to hurt.  If it makes you feel better, I can let them know I’m headed their way.  Though it seems they are content to wait since I’ve not received a single letter since I responded to the summons weeks ago.”

He runs his fingers through her hair.  “Which makes me nervous about sending you there alone.”

“Well, Alistair has either calmed the nobles down or he is taking me at my word that I’m coming to Denerim even though it has been a long time.”

“Sometimes no news isn’t good news.”

“I still think my strategy is sound.  Can they really stay unhappy when I’ve worked to close the rifts in Northern Ferelden?”

“You’d be surprised.  You’ve read this stories about the Fifth Blight.  The Wardens were labelled traitors, deserters, and king slayers before there was proof that Loghain was actually the traitor.  Despite that, they fought to build an army against the Darkspawn and keep Ferelden from crumbling during the Civil War.  Yet Danielle was still arrested in Denerim.”

“You think he plans to arrest me?”

“Not him, no.  But if the people of the Landsmeet call for it, he will have little choice.”

She presses her lips to the center of his chest.  “If they arrest me, you can just come riding in on your white horse to save me.”

He chuckles.  “You’d be in that cell a long time before I got there.”

She looks up at him and smiles.  “So, we’re traveling together then?”

He bends down and kisses her.  “How can I say no when you look at me like that?”

She smirks.  “How is it that I look at you?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

She places her hand on his cheek and runs her thumb down his scar.  “I do, but it doesn’t hurt to hear it.”

There is a knock on the door and she groans.  He kisses her forehead and goes to the door, shrugging on his shirt as he goes.   He unlocks and opens it.  Quinn stands at the door holding a bundle of clothes.  “Sorry to bother you, my lord.  But his lordship has asked that I provide you with some suitable clothes for the ceremony this morning.”

“Ceremony?”

“Yes, my lord.  It’s for you to formally accept your position as Bann of Golden Grove.  Then you’ll leave immediately with Teyrn Trevelyan to be introduced to your people and get a tour of the full extent of your land.”

“Is my armor not suitable attire?”

The imposing man scratches his chin.  “If that’s the message you wish to send, then sure.”

“Wearing armor sends a message?”

Shea comes to stand beside him.  “Just accept the clothes, sweetheart.  I’ll talk you through all this.”

Quinn eyes trail up and down her for a brief moment.  Her silky robe doesn’t leave much to the imagination.  Cullen takes the clothes from him and he bows.  Cullen closes the door and sets the clothes on the bed.  She wraps her arms around him and presses her lips between his shoulder blades.  He places his hand over hers.  “This is very overwhelming.”

“I know the feeling.  It’s the same one I had after becoming the Inquisitor.”

He turns in her arms and cups her face.  “I have a whole new appreciation for everything you do.”

She smirks.  “The day to day of noble life isn’t that hard.  Dealing with other nobles is where the stress resides.   What Quinn was referring to is that what you wear to your ceremony sets the tone for the kind of leader you’ll be.  Wearing the clothes provided, rich fabrics and colors, will make you appear to be their equal.  Makes it seem like you will rule as they do.  Armor could say you plan on ruling by force.  Hell, even the colors you wear tell of your loyalty.”  She turns her attention to the clothes on the bed.  “Brandon has provided you with Trevelyan colors.  Blue and silver.  This will tell the nobles that your loyalties lay with our family.  Which can be both a good and a bad thing.”

“How so?”

“It will appear that you will default to his wishes.  But that can also make you look like his puppet.  Willing to do anything he tells you.  Which isn’t inherently bad, but they might think that you aren’t your own person.”

“What would you do if you were me?”

She looks him up and down.  “Well… you did this to help the people and your family.  Is that the message you want to send?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.  You know what kind of noble you want to be.”

He nods.  “Well, my good shirt has a couple holes in it.”

She takes his hands.  “Wear whatever makes you comfortable.  Be yourself.  If that means armor, wear it.”

“And I trust since you’re staying, that you’ll be there?”

“Standing right next to my brother.”

He brushes his fingers along the scar on her face.  “How have things been?  I know the first day was hard.”

“Nothing can compare to watching… I was unconscious for most of our stay.  I will be happier once we’re gone.”

He sighs.  “Shea.  If you hate it here, why would you let me accept becoming a Bann?”

“We don’t have to stay here when you come up to deal with your… duties.  We can build a house in Golden Grove or stay at the family estate that I’ve never even seen.  Bad memories should have no impact on the life we’re trying to build for our child.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and places his hand on her stomach.  “You’re right.  I’m just... this is all over my head.  I don’t know the first thing about being nobility.”

“That’s not the point, love.  You know how to be a good man.  You’ve worked at it.  Done everything you possibly can to distance yourself from any misdeeds you may have committed or suffered.  That’s all anyone can ask of you.  This isn’t Orlais.  Missteps here won’t get you killed.  There isn’t much of a power struggle anymore since Ostwick has a single ruler.  The only thing left is vying for Brandon’s favor, which you already have.  Your people respect you and they don’t even know you are their leader yet.  So, relax.  The ceremony is just a formality.”

He shakes his head.  “What have I gotten myself into this time?”

She steps forward and takes his face in her hands.  “This is nothing compared to running an army.  This will be easy in comparison.  Just continue being the man you are and you’ll do just fine.”  She pulls his face to hers and their lips lock together.  He runs his hands up her back and pulls her to him.  She leans into the kiss and he lays back on the bed pulling her on top of him.  She giggles.  “Now, now Commander.  We mustn’t keep the court waiting.”

“I’m sure they’ll come bother us when we’re needed.”

He nuzzles her neck and nips at her skin.  She moans.  “Cullen… I know you don’t want to be late…”

He traces her lips with his middle finger and her tongues darts put to meet it.  He slides in the finger into her mouth and she sucks on it.  “We wouldn’t be late… if it was fast.”

She pulls his finger slowly from between her lips.  “Are we talking like last night or did you have something else in mind?”

“Hand and knees, love.”

She smirks and rolls off him.  She presses up on her hands and knee.  She shifts her hips and wiggles her ass in front of him.  He briefly admires the view before freeing himself from his pants.  He bunches the soft fabric of her robe up and gathers it in one at hand the small of her back.  He spits in his free hand and runs it along the cleft of her ass.  She moans as he warms up her tight hole.  Her sounds and the memory of how tight her ass felt, makes him rush things bit.  When she is loose enough to take him, he rams into her.  She cries out.  Her scream echoing through the tower and out the open window.  He roughly grabs her hips, slamming her into him as he slams into her.  He is rough and aggressive as he plows into her.  Skin smacking loudly against skin.

“Oh.  Yeah.  Fuck me harder.  Faster.”

He watches the force ripple through her cheeks as he slams her back as hard as he can.  Two successive orgasms roll through her and she screams his name.  He smirks and lets out his sounds of pleasure.  His body tenses for release.  He hilts himself deep inside of her ass.  He groans loudly and folds himself around her.  He empties deep inside her and she cries out again.  Shockwaves roll through both of them.

There is a knock at the door.  She laughs quietly.  “I think that was a record.”

He pulls himself from her and watches his seed leak from her abused knot.  She rolls onto her side and attempts to catch her breath.  He puts his dick back in his pants and checks himself over before going to the door.  He cracks it open.  “Yes?”

Quinn is standing there.  “Teyrn Trevelyan would like to know if you will be down soon.  Everyone is waiting.”

“I just need a few minutes to finish getting ready.”  The dark man nods and turns to go back down the stairs.  Cullen shuts the door and strips.  He looks over at his fiancé.  She is still breathing heavily and sweat covers her forehead.  He brushes hair from her face and kisses her forehead.  He heads for his armor and starts putting it on.

She turns her head to follow his movements.  “Opting for the armor then?”

He nods after pulling on his smalls and pants.  “I’m more comfortable in it than anything else.”

“I guess I should get up and put something on as well.”  She rolls off the bed and he watches the waddle to the wardrobe.

“Did I hurt you?  I know we didn’t have that oil.”

She shakes her head.  “I’ll be alright.  I’ll probably be a little sore, but it’s nothing to worry about.”  She pulls a silver dress with blue lace accents from the wardrobe and tosses it on the bed.  “Speaking of sore?  How are you after last night?”

He smirks.  “Never better.  You did an excellent job warming me up.”

“I bet I did.”  She looks him over and looks at her dress.  “Do you think that’s too much?  Seeing as you’re wearing armor?”

“I’m sure it’s fine, love.  But you might want to wear your smalls though or you might leak my cum all over the floor.”  She blushes an attractive shade of scarlet before pulling on her smalls.  She dresses much faster than he does these days, since she doesn’t have as many layers.  So, once she’s dressed, she goes to help him finish his donning his armor.  She runs her fingers through his hand to slick it back.  He trails his fingers down her face.  “You should probably do something about your hair.”

“That won’t take me long.”  She quickly braids it and smirks.  “Ta-da!”

He takes her hands.  “Tell me what I’m supposed to do exactly.  I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Walk up the center aisle when called and then bow.  After that Brandon will provide instructions.  Such as kneel and rise.  You know I never asked.  You are called Ser Rutherford.  Doesn’t that mean you’ve been knighting?”

He chuckles.  “I was _Kniaht_ -Captain.  Then _Knight_ -Commander.  It’s right there in the title, love.”

She rubs her face.  “That’s right.  Don’t know why I never made that connection before.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes.  Why?”

He shrugs.  “Maybe it’s just my imagination, but you seem… tired.”

“You did just fuck me.”

“That must be it.”

“Are you ready?”

He nods and she takes his hand leading him down the stairs of the tower.  She stops outside the entrance to the main hall.  She presses up on her toes and kisses him.  “Remember to breathe.  This should go quickly, but do remember not to lock your knees.”

“Yes, fainting in the middle of a ceremony would be embarrassing.”

“I love you.  And I’ll see you in a moment.  Wait right,” she moves him to stand in the middle of the two large doors, “here.  And when they open, just walk forward and then stop at the stairs.”

“I think I can manage that.  I love you, too.”  She kisses him again before rushing down a side hall to go to take her place.  She is breath taking in her silver gown.  Her hair looks almost red against it.  She stops at the corner and gives him an encouraging smile before disappearing from view.  _Maker, I love that woman.  And one day, maybe not anytime soon, we’ll never have to be apart again._   The doors open in front of him.  He straightens and takes a deep breath.  Then he walks the purpose into the hall.

***

Shea is left alone when Cullen and Brandon go off to survey his new holdings and greet his people.  The soreness from their morning session has settled in and she wants nothing more than to just sit and do nothing.  Yet she isn’t used to doing nothing and her brother’s absence provides her with a one-time opportunity.  She just has to get there unnoticed.  She has changed into one of her more casual dress, dark green with black accents, and opts to go barefoot to better disguise her steps.  She walks casually though the castle to keep her intentions hidden.  Though it seems to be unnecessary since she doesn’t encounter anyone on her way.

She stops in front of the door to the study and looks around.  Still, she sees no one.  She turns the knob and the door opens.  She opens it quickly and steps inside.  She is not alone in the office and she doesn’t recognize the man standing there.  He hasn’t seen her yet, so she ducks into the shadows to watch him.  The man is human and dressed in simple clothing.  There is nothing distinct about them, which means he wanted to blend in.  He is rifling through the desk in search for something.  She allows him the chance to look around.  He picks up a piece of paper and smirks.  She takes this moment to freeze him in his place.  She steps from the shadows with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Well, well, well.  What have we here?”

His eyes dart around the room as if looking for someone to help him.  She plucks the paper from his hand and reads.  “Looking for the Teyrn’s schedule for the day I see.  Why is that exactly?”  He doesn’t respond.  “You may as well speak.  You are only getting out of this if I allow it.”

“I’m just followin’ orders, your Worship.”

“And who might these orders be coming from?”

“I can’t say.”

She sighs.  She folds up the paper and sticks it up her sleeve.  “Are your orders really worth all this trouble?  They’ve left you here undefended and now you are at the mercy of the Inquisition.”

“I’m not… no.  I will say no more.  You’re just tryin’ to trick me.”

“There are no tricks, I assure you.  I will say though, that I am a much nicer, kinder interrogator than the ones I usually assign to the task.  Either talk to me or I slide this ice cube down to the dungeons and let my people handle it.”

She lets that sink in for a moment before she starts pacing the room, casually looking at the shelves as the man thinks.  She spots a large set of volumes that take up several tall shelves.  The only markings on the bindings are years.  She looks over at the man.  He still seems to be contemplating her ultimatum.  She is amazed by the sheer volume of books.  She has never seen records so neatly kept and dating so far back.  She has the impression that there was no one in all of Thedas who kept records as well as her father. 

“I’ll talk.  If you’ll unfreeze me.”

She laughs.  “Why would I do a thing like that?  You seem a capable man and I am an unarmed woman.”

“You are hardly unarmed, your Worship.”

“True enough.  What assurance do I have that you won’t attack or try to flee should I release you?”

He doesn’t answer right away.  She looks back at the shelf as she circles the room.  She scans the years on the bindings until she finds what she is looking for.  _9:20 Dragon.  And 9:21 right next to it.  Time to either get rid of this guy or get answers from him and then arrest him._   She turns her full attention to him.

“Well?”

“Will you let me go if I tell you what you want to know?”

“I think you know that can’t happen.”

“Then you have my answer.”

She goes to the door and into the main hall.  It bothers her that there is no one around.  “Guards!”  She waits for someone to respond.  Still nothing.  She readies her magic just in case.  She walks through the main hall.  Cassandra nearly runs into her as she comes charging down the hall.

“Inquisitor!  Are you alright?”

“Where are all the guards?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

Shea pulls the paper from her sleeve.  “There’s a man frozen in the study.  He was looking for this.”  Cassandra takes the paper and reads.  “He wouldn’t spill his secrets to me unless I thawed him, but he did say that he was ordered to find what Brandon’s plans were today.  I think it’s safe to assume that he is supposed to report back to someone with this information.”

“Bull and I will work on him.  It shouldn’t take us long to break him if he was willing to express that much at least.”

Shea nods.  “I’ll kept watch over him while you go get Bull.  Please hurry though.  I don’t like how empty this place is.”

Cassandra hurries off and Shea goes back to the study.  The man is still stuck in his icy prison.  She leans on the desk facing the door and looks over at him.  “Have you ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?”  His eyes go wide.  “I will take that as a yes.  What your employer may have neglected to inform you is that I have an agent of the Ben-Hassrath under my command.”

“They mentioned that you had a Tal-Vashoth.”

“That should tell you something about the kind of leader I am.”  The color drains from the man’s face.  “Feeling chatty yet?”

The words come flying out of the man’s mouth.  “We’re told to say they, but it’s just one person who has a lot of money.  She has some kind of beef with your family.  I don’t know her name!  I’ve never even seen her!  All I know is that this coin will feed my family for years to come and all I had to do was find that paper that said what Teyrn Trevelyan was doing today.  Please don’t kill me!”

Shea smirks.  “We will have to verify all of this. Though I’m sure you know that.  If your story checks out, you’ll be free to go.”

“If I don’t complete my mission, she’ll have me and my family killed!”  Bull and Cassandra enter the room but stop when they hear him talking.  “It’s all there in the contract.”

“A contract, you say?  Were you provided with a copy of this contract?”

“Yes.  But I don’t have it on me.”

She notices that her friends have entered.  She goes to them. “How much did you hear?”

Bull whispers.  “There’s a contract.  Meaning paperwork and evidence.  And Cassandra caught me up with what you told her.  I have an idea that will work in both our favor and his.”

“Then proceed.”

Bull steps around Shea and approaches the man.  “If she unfreezes you, will you run?”

“N-n-n-no.”

Bull nods and Shea unfreezes him.  The man scurries back to get distance from Bull but doesn’t make for the door.  “Where can we find this contract?”

“With my things in the servants’ quarters.”

“Do you work here?”

He sighs.  “Yes.  Teyrn Trevelyan took pity on me and my family and offered me a job in the stables.”

Shea’s eyes narrow.  “And this is how you repay him?”

“I appreciate what he’s done for us, but I don’t make enough money to feed all those hungry mouths.  My wife, Hannah, has to stay home to care for our children.”

“Hannah?  From Honnleath?”

“Do you know her?”

“I was under the impression she only had one child.”

“We have two.  Jake, our eldest who was born on the road from Kirkwall, and little Beth.”

Shea shakes her head, “You need to be more cooperative here.  I have met everyone in the village and you were not there.  Jake was born in the village.  And so was Beth.”

“Glenn is wrong about that.  I would know when and where my son was born.”

Bull steps closer to the man.  “What is your name?”

“Mitchell.”

“Where is the contract, Mitchell?”

“I told you.  In my bag in the servant’s quarters.”

Cassandra steps out of the room and to go send someone to search for it.  Shea leans against the desk.  “Does Hannah know what you’ve done?”

“No.”

Bull turns to the desk.  He pulls out a piece of paper and a quill.  “Got something with your brother’s handwriting on it?”

She digs through his papers before finding some report written by his hand.  “Here you go.”  He lays the paper next to the blank one and starts writing.  She is amazed to see him writing a schedule in Brandon’s handwriting.  It looks just like the paper she had taken from Mitchell.  Bull brushes powered over the page to instantly dry the ink.  He turns to the man and hands it to him.

“How good are you at lying?”

“I won’t need to.  I’m just supposed to place it in a dead drop before midday.”

“Then do it and then turn yourself in to Seeker Cassandra.  I suggest you don’t make me come looking for you.”  He snatches the note from Bull’s hand and flees the study.

Shea nods.  “What’s your plan then?”

“I’ll take Dorian, Sera, and the Dalish to ambush whomever shows up.  You and Cassandra need to stay here to make sure he comes back and to keep up appearances.”

“I can do that.  Plan on taking survivors?”

“If we can, but we need to send someone to watch this dead drop.”

“Have Moira do it.  She knows the city.”

“It would make everyone a lot happier if we can find a cypher for the papers we’ve found on your attackers in Orlais and the ones here too.  Otherwise, we’re still too many steps behind.”

“You should hurry then.  This seems to be moving rather quickly.”  He nods and leaves the study.

She grins to herself.  They were finally making headway on this whole assassin business and she is finally alone in the study.  She heads right for the volumes she noted early.  _9:20 and 9:21 Dragon.  Let’s see what dear ol’ dad was up to._   She sets the books on the desk and quickly flips to the back of 9:20.  _Firstfall.  Firstfall.  Firstfall.  Ah!  Here we go.  1 Firstfall._   _If my birthday is correct, then this should be the day I was conceived, if I was on time._

She groans as she reads.  “Damn it.  These book are monetary transactions. Well, it’ll at least give me a location.”  She greedily reads a few dates.  “He was definitely in Ferelden.  Denerim mostly.  But it doesn’t say if he dealt with any Dalish clans.”  She snaps the book closed and opens the other.  She flips to her birthday.  “Still no mention.  Though I was born a few days before I arrived.”  She flips a few more pages and her fingers freeze.  She notices some markings on this page that she saw on in previous book.  She hears footsteps in the main hall coming towards the study.  She snatches up a piece of paper and quill, she quickly copies the markings, before returning the volumes to their spot.  She folds the paper and shoves it up her sleeve.

Cassandra enters the study.  “Moira is watching the dead drop.  And the man you caught has returned.  He is currently being assigned a cell.  Why are you still in Brandon’s study?”

“I was just looking around.  Believe it or not, I’ve never been in this room before coming back here.”

“That’s not so hard to believe.  Brandon told me this room was off limits while your father ruled.  More accurately, when he took over the family business and Ostwick’s coin.”

“How does Brandon feel about this room now?”

“He would prefer it remained off limits to anyone who isn’t family.  So, if you’re question is referring to whether you are allowed in here or not, be comforted to know that you are.”  She turns and closes the door behind her.  “Any luck?”

“Luck?”

“Finding information about your birth mother.”

“How did you know?”

“Cullen has people he confides in that aren’t you.  It’s always been that way.  Dorian and Moira might be your confidants, but Bull and I are his.  He has been very… overwhelmed lately.  You are turning into a more complicated woman than he anticipated.”

Shea leans against the desk.  The wind knocked from her.  “He thinks I’m… complicated?”

Cassandra crosses her arms and smirks.  “He also thinks you are trouble.”

“Trouble?” Her heart sinks.  This wasn’t exactly the best time to be learning these things.  They were in it for the long haul.  “What does that mean exactly?”

Cassandra sees the worry in her eyes.  “Oh Maker!  It’s not a bad thing.  He meant trouble as a term of endearment.  He enjoys how… thrilling his life is with you.  Trouble follows you around and he likes the idea of being able to save you for once.  And he means your past is complicated.  He can’t keeping everything straight.”

Shea sighs.  “Oh.  Well, it’s not any easier for me.  Believe me.”

“I can sympathize to a certain extent.  I was a noble too, remember?  But he told us what he had pieced together and he wonders if you’d come in here to dig up information on her.”

She grabs the books from their spot on the shelf.  “I’m a bit at sea with all this sleuthing stuff.  My mother… my adopted mother said that everything I needed to know was probably in this room since Father kept detailed records.  But this just looks like a bunch of business transactions.”  Cassandra comes to stand next to her as she flips through the pages.  “There’s this symbol next to certain days.  Some around the time I may have been conceived and some around the day I was brought to Ostwick.  Any idea as to what they might mean?”

“They could refer to other tomes.  Personal logs maybe.”  Cassandra circles the room.  “According to Moira’s report about the family ledger it was,” she stops in front of a shelf and touches a spot where a book is missing, “here.  And if this shelf dealt with family issues, then maybe your father’s personal books are somewhere around here.”  Shea goes to stand by Cassandra as they scan the shelves.

Shea squints and strains to see the books at the top of the tall shelf.  She sees a few tattered looking journals shoved up on top.  “How much you want to bet that those are what we’re looking for?”  She points and Cassandra follows the gesture.

“If I were trying to hide things from prying eyes, that’s where I’d put them.”  She looks around, “And naturally there isn’t a ladder in sight.”

“Spot me.”  Shea moves to climb the shelves.

“I should be the one…”

“If I fall, you can catch me.  It wouldn’t work the other way around.”

Cassandra sighs.  “Do try to be careful.  The Commander will kill me if I let something happen to you while he is gone.”

Shea carefully climbs the shelf.  Testing each one before putting her full weight on it.  The top is caked in dust.  She rubs the dust from the cover of the journal on the top of the stack.  There is a symbol on the cover, but it doesn’t match the one she is looking for.  She continues through the small stack.  She gets to the last one and brushes off the dust.  “Here it is!”  She picks it up and drops it into Cassandra’s waiting hands.  Cassandra sets it on the desk and returns to watching Shea make her way down.  She rubs he nose with her dust covered hand.  She grips the shelf and braces to sneeze.  She sneezes three consecutive times.  The force makes her lose her footing and she falls onto Cassandra.  They crash to the ground with a groan.

Shea chuckles.  “I told you that you could catch me.”

“Catch is a generous term.”

Shea stands and helps Cassandra up.  They go to the desk.  “Could you put those back please?”

Cassandra returns the volumes to their place as Shea sits to flip through this journal.  The first handful of entries holds the answers she needs.

_24 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_I dislike being away from home during this time of year.  Particularly when I miss Satinalia.  The boys will be upset more than Donna, but that’s just how it has to be.  We need this deal to go though.  If it does, then Ferelden will be sending loads of coin into our pockets._

_I have a meeting with King Maric in a few days. I hope that goes well._

_I have a feeling I shouldn’t put this next part in writing as it could easily be used against me.  However, since I confide in no one but these pages, it is the only way to get the events of today off my chest.  I love Donna, in a way.  But there is no passion there.  Not in the sense that ideological sense.  Not in the way a man should love his wife.  I would not die for her.  Or sacrifice everything I’ve built for her.  I wouldn’t even do that for my sons.  Or Emelia.  Hell, my infatuation for her ended the moment she abandon Emeric.  I digress._

_I was not raised to look at elves as more than servants.  Second class citizens.  Lessor than even the poorest person in my domain.  Yet, when I saw her in the market today… I’ve never met a Dalish elf before today.  They are… different than city elves.  More… spirited.  She had little regard for the humans of the city unless they were trading or bartering something she wanted.  Her amethyst eyes matched those tattoos she had on her face.  She was small, but she looked strong carrying that basket of pelts on her back.  Her hair was like fire.  There was just something about this elf girl that I can’t name.  I feel drawn to her.  Tomorrow I will ask her name.  Maybe offer to trade a bottle of wine for some of those fennec pelts she had.  The boys would like them._

***

_25 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_I saw her again today.  It was toward the end of the day, I was actually getting ready to turn in after a very successful selling day.  Setting up shop in front of the tavern was risky, but when the barkeep buys up most of your stock as long as you agree not to serve any outside his doors, it all works out.  She was by herself today.  I watched her step on a piece of broken glass.  I rushed to help her, which is not something I would normally do.  She was saying something angrily in elven.  I could see the fear and hatred in her eyes when I kneeled before her.  I wasn’t sure if she understood me at first.  Then she lifted her foot and allowed me to pull the glass out.  Is it weird that I pocketed it?_

_I had no idea she was a mage.  She healed her own foot after the glass was removed.  Again, I don’t know if she speaks the common tongue as she said something in elven before scampering away.  I’ll try to get her to trade with me again tomorrow.  As for the glass piece.  I’m attaching it to this journal.  Again.  I have no idea what is possessing me to save this_

***

_26 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_Good selling day.  No sign of the elf._

_***_

_27 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_Slow selling down. Only sold one case.  Meeting with King Meric tomorrow.  I’m starting to think she went back to her clan.  Maybe it’s for the best._

_***_

_28 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_The meeting with King Meric went extremely well.  He was pleased to meet a Bann from the Free Marches and said he looked forward to setting up a trade network between Ostwick and Denerim.  He bought all but five cases.  Which means I should head home so that I can still sell some along the way._

_Second entry._

_I ran into her while heading back to my room.  She had a gift for me.  It was a pair of twisted, stark white horns.  I didn’t want to accept something like that.  Halla horns are pricy and dangerous to travel with.  She does speak common.  She told me it was rude to refuse such a gift.  She also said it would be in poor taste for me to sell them.  I could have them made into something else, that was fine, but I should not profit from them._

_I accepted them under one condition.  If she would give me her name, I would gladly accept.  Her name is Sheanni.  Pronounced Shee-on-nee.  She didn’t not wish to know my name.  I asked her what the horns would be best suited for.  She took them and said she’d bring me something she thought they were worth making._

_I wanted to follow her, but I didn’t.  I just went back to my room to prepare for my return home._

_***_

_29 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_I met her outside the tavern.  She had made me some things out of the horns.  She made a set of jewelry out of them.  She said I could give them to my wife.  Apparently, she noticed my ring.  I offered to buy her a drink and to my surprise she accepted._

_She stayed with me in my room.  She doesn’t feel safe in the city after dark and I offered her a place to sleep.  Which she accepted._

_***_

_30 Harvestmere 9:20 Dragon_

_I think I’ve fallen for Sheanni.  My thoughts are filled with her and I can’t bring myself to head home like I should be.  I will wait for her to come back.  She said she would come back._

_It’s been hours now and the sun is starting to set.  I should go find her.  I should go armed._

_Second entry._

_I’ve found her.  She’s with me now.  Resting after using so much magic.  I saved her from bandits.  She lost her pelts but at least she’s safe.  I risked my life to save her.  I was injured but she… she healed me.  She saved me in return.  Maker.  What have I gotten myself into?_

_***_

_1 Firstfall 9:20 Dragon_

_I feel like a deviant. What the Maker must think of me. I have laid with Sheanni.  I’m not sure how it happened or why.  But she was healing me and I kissed her.  Then she was on me faster than a beggar on bread.  She’s asleep beside me now.  I’ve never… sex has never been like that.  Wild and full of fire.  I’ve been with a large number of women in my time, both free and paid, but nothing has satisfied me like she does.  Looking at her now I wonder: would she come with me?  Leave her clan?  Help me continue my line since my barren wife no longer can?  Do I make her feel crazy the way she makes me?  I barely know this… woman and yet I’m almost ready to give up everything._

_If Brandon were old enough to be able to rule with the help of a regent, I wouldn’t hesitate.  Isn’t that want love is?  And when did I know this?  The moment I saw her.  Is that insane?  It must be.  I’m a married man.  I have a family and city-state waiting for me to come back to provide and rule as I have been since before Father died.  And there is no one I can say any of this to except myself._

_Maybe I could tell her.  She barely knows me nor I her, but there is a connection here I cannot deny._

_***_

_2 Firstfall 9:20 Dragon_

_She feels the same way.  Andraste preserve me, she feels the same way.  Yet she can’t leave her clan.  I understand.  I’m in the same spot.  She needs to go back to them soon.  Yet she doesn’t want to leave me._

_She doesn’t know what she will say about her prolonged absence, but she can’t return empty handed.  So, I bought her a raven and gave her coin to purchase the pelts she lost.  She doesn’t want my money, but I insist.  She tells me about how her clan feels about humans.  We aren’t to be trusted.  In fact, she would have offered me a place among her people, but they would kill me on sight.  She is the only one brave enough to go into human cities to trade.  Occasionally, she will have company, but most of the time it’s just her.  She loves me.  She calls me Vhenan, which means heart.  I was her first.  I wish she had told me before.  I would have been gentler._

_We will spend the next two nights together and then part ways.  Her people will become worried if it’s any longer than that.  And so, with a heavy heart, I will not be writing again until I’ve left.  Every moment will be spent in her arms._

 

Shea looks over at Cassandra.  “He loved her.”

“Your father?”

“He only knew her for a few days, but he knew that he loved her.  And she loved him back.”  She flips a few pages.  “He turned this journal into his love diary.  Their letters are pasted in here.”  She skims a page.  “He knew she was pregnant and was cast out of her clan.  Permanently.”  Tears well up in her eyes.  She can’t bring herself to read anymore.  She pushes the journal to Cassandra who instantly continues to read.

Shea paces the study.  _She could be anywhere.  She could be dead for all I know.  I was clearly named after her.  No wonder Mother hates me.  I remind her of his undying love for another woman.  She had to know.  Maybe that’s why he was so cold?  He missed her._

“Shea.  Come look at this.”

Shea goes to stand by Cassandra who starts reading aloud.  “When she brought the baby to Ostwick, it took every ounce of self-control I have not to rush to them and take them both in my arms.  Such a display would be disastrous.  Yet Sheanni wants nothing more than to give over our child a chance to live a normal life, apart from the distain people show towards elves.  I understand, but I wish it was different.  But she has already told me she can never go back to her clan.  She was forced out when they found out she was having a human baby.  She lived in the forest all alone and brought this child into the world by herself.  I can’t just send her away.  I have given her access to the family estate.  I can sneak away to see her and no one will know.  We don’t use it.  She can help me run the vineyard.  And when Shea, my daughter, is older enough, I will tell her the truth.”

“Holy shit.  Do you think she’s still there?”

“I don’t know.  There’s only one more entry after this.”

Shea grabs the journal and reads.

_This will be the last time I write in this as I can no longer bring myself to think of my daughter’s fate or what her departure will mean to her mother.  Even though she is but a babe, Shea already has so much of Sheanni in her and it pains me to see it.  She will leave when she becomes of age and never know the truth.  Donna has seen to that.  That woman’s jealousy knows no bounds.  She torments Shea and there is nothing I can do about it if we are to keep the truth of her birth a secret._

_It is time to distance myself from the girl.  The thought of losing her is far too painful.  Sheanni doesn’t understand why we’re dooming Shea to this life of service and I fear that she will leave because of it.  If she leaves, I don’t think I’ll survive.  She is my only solace in a world full of vipers.  It is beyond my power to stop this as Shea is my third born.  Trevelyans have a duty to the Maker and I must start grooming her for it._

_I hope Sheanni can forgive me for what I must do to our daughter.  I hope I can forgive myself._

 

She slams the book closed and nearly tosses it across the room.  “He could have sent me away.  He could have told me when he saw how I was being treated.  He could have told me.”  Cassandra goes to touch her arm and Shea storms off, journal in hand, before she gets the chance.

“Inquisitor!  Wait!”

“I need to go.”

Cassandra rushes to block her path.  “We have a job to do.  Everything must appear to be business as usual.  Or this attempt to stop these assassins will be for nothing.  I understand your need to see if she is still there.  I would want to know as well.  But you must wait.  Wait for Cullen to return with Brandon at the very least. Then he can go with you.  You shouldn’t do this alone.”

Shea sighs.  She knows Cassandra is right, but she has no idea when Cullen will return.  She looks around and people have started milling around again.  “Fine.  I’ll wait.  But we need to find out why this place was so empty before and now people have returned.  I’ll leave that to you.  I need to… lay down.”

Cassandra nods and pats her on the arm before heading off.  She shakes her head.  She can’t wait though she knows that she should.  She takes the journal up to her room and changes into her battle gear.  If she’s going out alone, she isn’t going unprotected or unarmed.  She makes sure her belt is loaded with healing potions and lyrium.  She checks herself over in the mirror.  She is just now beginning to show in her new armor, but her dresses show the bump off nicely.  Her hair is long, wavy, and flowing loose down her back.  _Is this how I want to meet my birth mother if she still lives out there?_   She shrugs and centers the journal on the bed.  She wouldn’t need it and if she isn’t back before Cullen gets back, then he will need to know where to find her.  She grabs her staff, rushes down the tower, and makes for the stables.

***

Cullen has been riding all over the Trevelyan/Rutherford land all day.  The village newly named Golden Grove is beyond thrilled to have Cullen as their Bann and to have the Teyrn himself come to bring the news.  As they ride, Cullen does what he does best and starts building a strategy on how to better protect his people from raids.  He draws a map of his land and makes plans on how best to set up choke points.  He gives Magus official sanction to build his mabari breeding program and even encourages him to train them to defend the villagers.  They have no fighters among them and he doesn’t like the idea of his people being defenseless.  He will need talk to Shea or maybe even Brandon himself about how it would look to build an army up on his land.  Banns did it all the time in Ferelden.

Brandon decides that he may as well show Cullen the rest of the land since his future marriage will grant him access to them as well.  The estate rivals some of the estates he has seen in Orlais.  Though it is nowhere near as gaudy and looks more like a large house than some glided mansion.  The fields of grapevines go on for what looks like miles.  “We don’t just make wine you know.”

Brandon’s sudden comment pulls Cullen from his thoughts.  “Pardon?”

“We don’t just make wine.  Father discovered early on that he could make more money from selling the raw material to Orlais, Antiva, and Tevinter than he could from making wine.  It’s what made our family and Ostwick flourish as it was just focused on the production of wine than just growing the grapes.”

“I have never seen so many.”

“And you never will.  The vast majority of this part of the land is dedicated to their production.  It’s our best kept secret actually. I’m sure you noticed the tall fences and guards posts as we crossed from your land to mine.”  Cullen nods.  “It keeps anyone… unwanted from stealing from us as well as keeping the sheer volume of product we have under wraps.  And on the plus side, should their ever be a famine, these grapes could feed the entirety of Ostwick through one full winter.  The business would suffer some, but it would be the same result if we had some sort of infestation.  Even Shea hasn’t seen this.  Though I suppose she has a right to know now that she’s an heir.”

“And your father built all this?”

“For the most part.  The estate has been here for decades.  Maybe even centuries.  It was built by some of the first Trevelyans.  When our family started living exclusively in Ostwick Castle, it just sat here empty.  Well, fully staffed and cared for, but empty.  Still is actually.  None of the servants live in the big house.  They live in the smaller house around back.  They mostly tend the fields and make the wine.  It’s a good life for the ones who live out here.  The pay is fantastic.  It has to be.  They’re keeping our secrets after all.”

“So, no one lives in the house?”

“Nope.”

Cullen points up to a high window.  The evening sun has put this side of the house in shadow and is the only reason the single candle in a window is visible.  A thin line of smoke raises from the chimney.  Brandon’s eyebrows knit together.  An elf rushes up to him.  “Your lordship!  We were not expecting you today!”

“Tom.  Who is in the house?”

“I do not know, your lordship.  But it is not one of your workers, ser.  We know better.”

“Is it cleaning day?”

“It must be!  Otherwise the house would be empty.”

“Go find out if Lydia has anyone tending the house today while Bann Rutherford and I get our horse watered and fed.”

The elf bows, “Yes, your lordship.”

Cullen nods and follows him to the stable.  “I admire the fact that you know his name.”

“Father encouraged it.  Servants come and go in the castle, but out here… These people have worked with Trevelyans for generations.  It’s the least we can do to thank them for their loyalty.  Sword at the ready, Commander.  If Tom doesn’t know who is in there, we might have a squatter.  He knows everyone and everything that goes on out here.”

They dismount and tie up their horses.  They head for the nearest door.  “Have you been inside before?”

“A few times, but never long enough to stay the night.  Father didn’t like being here very long.  Not sure why.”

“Where is that room?”

“It’s the master bedroom.  Father’s bedroom.  Though I guess it’s mine now.  Top floor, south east corner.”

“Then allow me to lead.  Your life is currently more important than mine.”

Brandon chuckles, “Shea might have something different to say about that.”

Cullen smirks, “I won’t tell her if you won’t.”

“Then after you, my lord.”

Cullen pushes open the door and Brandon follows behind him.  The house is warm for a place that has no one living in it.  The marble floors and columns are white with silver veins running through them.  The furniture is blue velvet but not overtly fancy.  The rug in the main sitting room is exactly like the one in their room at Halamshiral.  They walk has quietly as their boots will allow on the floors.  They go up two flights of stairs, before turning down a hallway.  They hear the pitter patter of feet behind them.  Tom pops up the stairs.  He whispers, “Lydia says there should be no one inside the house, your lordship.”

Brandon nods.  “You can go now.”

Tom bows and scampers down the stairs.  Cullen advances down the shadowed hallway.  The only light drifts in from the window at the end of the hall.  Brandon tap his shoulder and points to the door on their right.  Cullen approaches it and takes a deep breath.  He steps back to kick the door in but stops when he feels magic tingle his skin and the song of fresh lyrium calls to him for the first time in months.  He swallows hard and gently knocks on the door.

“I do not know who you are, but you are clearly a mage.  You are currently trespassing on the property of Teyrn Trevelyan.”

He feels the magic lessen.  A small feminine voice comes from the other side of the door.  “Teyrn?  When did that happen?”

“Not long ago.”

“What is this Teyrn’s name?”

Brandon clears his throat.  “My name is Teyrn Brandon Trevelyan.”

Cullen hears her gasp.  “Brandon?  Not… not… your father?”

“No.  He’s dead.”

Cullen can hear that the woman has become breathless.  He may not be able to see her, but he knows that feeling.  “You knew him didn’t you?”  His voice is kind and sympathetic.

He hears the bolt slide on the door and it slowly opens.  He sees half of her face.  Wrinkled pale skin, one bright amethyst eye surrounded by matching amethyst tattoos, and a head for bright white hair is piled on top of her head.  Tears are running down her cheeks.  Cullen blinks at her when her eye locks with his.  His heart flutters in his chest.  “How… when did he die?”

“Nearly a year ago, if I’m not mistaken.”  She closes her eyes and her fingers grip the door.  When she opens them again, the eye he can see locks with his again.  His breath quickens as the feeling of familiarity returns.  He could see her in this elf’s face.  The love of his life.  His fiancé.  The fierceness she showed as the Inquisitor.  Her warrior spirit.  “Are you…”

“How did he die?”

Cullen sighs.  He does not want to be the one to tell this woman that the man she clearly loves was murdered.  He looks back at Brandon.  He also doesn’t want to say the words.  Though it probably has nothing to do with not wanting to hurt this woman.  Cullen looks back at her.  “May we come in?”

“I’m not sure if I should.  Atwood told me not to.”

Brandon steps forward.  “How are you so familiar with my father that you refer to him by his first name?!”

She slams the door and locks it.  Cullen places his hand on Brandon’s arm.  “Can’t you see she’s frightened?”  He pulls Brandon down the hall.  “You know Shea is elf-blooded, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I think... I think… that’s her mother.”

“What?!”

“I can’t put my finger on it, but I’ve looked into Shea’s eyes more than anyone.  I have studied her face more than anyone.  There is something about the woman that just screams their relation.  Let me talk to her.”

Brandon shakes his head.  “No.  This woman has moved into my house and is claiming to know my father…”

“Brandon.  Your lordship.   Your father’s death is… still effecting you.  Things have been changing fast for you and you are too close to this to see the whole picture clearly.  Let me handle this.  I swear to you that I will tell you everything I learn.”

He grumbles and nods.  “Fine.  I’ll be downstairs in the sitting room having a stiff drink if you need me.”  Brandon stalks off down the hall and then down the stairs.  Cullen waits until he can no longer hear footsteps before going back to the door.  He knocks gently.

“Who is it?”

“My name is Cullen.  I sent Teyrn Trevelyan away.”

He hears her chuckle, “You?  Sent away a Teyrn?  What power do you have over him?”

“I’m engaged to his sister.”  The door nearly flies off the hinges as she flings it open.  She is short.  Shorter than Shea.  Her white hair is piled in a lose bun on top of her head.  Her lithe frames is covering in traditional Dalish garb complete with legs wraps and bare feet.  An old, worn, wooden staff is in one hand while the other holds the door open.  He smirks is signature grin when he sees the look on her face.  “You look like her.  I’ve seen that very expression on her face more times than I can count.”

“How did you find me?”

“By chance.  May I?”  He motions to the room and she steps from the doorway.  He walks into a large sitting room.  The furniture and drapery is green, unlike the rest of the house.  He can see a large bed decorated with green and gold bedding through the open door to his left.  To his right is another door, which is he assumes leads to the washroom.  She closes the door and locks it behind him.  He sits on one of the couches and she sits across from him.  She leans her staff next to her before pulling her knees to her chest.  He smirks again.  “She does that too.”

“Is she here?”

“No.  She’s back at the castle.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’ve been recently made Bann and Brandon was showing me the lay of the land.  We had not planned to come this way.”

She swallows hard.  “And you said… that Atwood is dead?”  He nods.  “How?”

“Poisoned.”

She lets a shattered sigh escape her lips.  “I feared something had happened to him when he missed his last scheduled visit.  And that was a long time ago.  Have you caught his killer yet?”

“We’re looking into it.  Whomever is behind this has been killing off every Trevelyan they can find.  From distant relatives to templars to Chantry sisters.  Reports lead us to believe that Shea and Brandon are the only ones left.”

“Add that to the vast number who were seduced by that Magister trying to burn the world.”

“Indeed.  I assume the late Bann kept you updated.”

She nods.  “Not every detail, but enough.  We didn’t like to spend our time discussing the unpleasantness of the world.”

Cullen leans back on the couch and crosses his legs.  “How long have you lived out here?”

“21 years.  Since the day I brought her to Ostwick.  I had nowhere else to go.  So, Atwood offered me a place to live where we could be together in secret.  I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this.  I don’t even know you.”

He shrugs.  “You may ask me questions if you feel like it.”

“Who are you?”

“Do you want the whole spiel?”

“You have a whole long introduction then?  A noble?”

“Since this morning.  I need to rework it I suppose.  I’ll have get to someone to help me with that.  As it stands now, I am Bann Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath.  Commander of the Forces of the Inquisition. Bann of Golden Grove in Ostwick.  And former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.”

“That is a mouthful.  So you were a templar from Ferelden and now you are a Bann in Ostwick?”

“That’s the abridged version yes.  And you?”

“Sheanni.  I’m Dalish… or I used to be before my clan cast me out.”

“You got cast out?”

“Yes.  Because I was having a shem child.  I was tainted and broke the rules.  Trading and bartering was allowed, and that was my job back then, but it was forbidden to lay with a human much less carry their child.  When I refused to terminate the pregnancy, they sent me away.  To wander the woods and live on my own.”

“That must be a hard way to live.”

“Especially when you are about to have a child.”

“Shea’s… adopted mother told us the story of when you showed up with her.  He never told anyone about his love for you.”

“How do you know that he loved me?”

“I have felt the pain that you are currently feeling.  Losing someone you care for so deeply that it feels like a part of your soul has been ripped out.  That kind of love isn’t one sided.”

“You are an astute man.  I think Atwood would have liked you.  You are right.  We loved each other and if he was able to leave his life, he would have.  He wanted me to come with him initially, but I turned him down.  I never imagined we’d conceive a child together.  If I had, I would have never returned to my clan and just gone with him.”

Someone pounds on the door.  She grabs her staff and stands.  Cullen motions for her to sit.  “I think I know who that is.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I know what her magic feels like.”

Sheanni gasps.  “She’s a mage?  Atwood said she wasn’t.”

“It’s a long story.”  Cullen stands up off the couch and moves towards the door.  He unlocks it, slowly opens it, and pushes her back into the hallway. 

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford!”  He pulls the door closed behind him.

“Calm down, love.”

“Calm down?!  You calm down!”

He tries not to laugh.  “I am calm, love.”

She paces the hall.  “I sneak all the way out here and who do I find but Brandon sitting in the main sitting room drunk off his ass, babbling about some elf who knew Father.  Then here you are… in her room.  Do you have any idea who she is?”

“I do.  Do you?”

Her anger snaps and is replaced by anxiety.  “I… yes… if that journal is right then… my mother is…”

“Just on the other side of that door.”

She leans against the wall and sinks to the floor.  “Maker’s breath.  What am even thinking?  I shouldn’t be here.  I should be at the castle.  Staying put like I was told.”

“Why?  What’s happening?”

“A bunch of stuff.  But this fucking journal has consumed me.  I could have been followed or just leaving may have fucked up the plans.”

“If you were successful in sneaking out, then you probably weren’t followed and if they think you are in your room, then maybe whatever these plans are, are still intact.”

She runs her fingers through her hair.  “Why didn’t I just wait?”

“Because you know we’re leaving tomorrow.  Even if it wasn’t a conscious thought, you are still aware of it.”  He kneels down on the floor in front of her.  “Since you’re here… are you going to go in there?”

She reaches out and he takes her hands.  “I’m… scared.  What if she doesn’t like me?  Or is disappointed because I don’t look like an elf?  I think maybe I should just…”

He cups her jaw and runs his thumb along her cheek.  “She’s going to love you.  She reminds me of you.  Her facial expressions.  Some of her features.  Her personality.  Her nervous habits.  That’s how I knew she was your mother without having to be told.  She has been telling about her life with your father.  She loved him.  Still does actually.  She just found out he was murdered.  She’s taking it pretty hard, but is at least managing to hold a brave face.  Much like you do.”

She sighs.  “This is… overwhelming.”

“I know, love.  But this is what you wanted.  You wanted to find out if the information you gathered is true.  Now you have and she’s right in there.  And as always, I will be right beside you.”

She smiles.  “There you go again.  Saying all the right things.”

He smirks.  “It’s a gift.”  He stands and helps her off the floor.  “Ready?”  She nods.  He laces their fingers together and turns to open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copper for your thoughts?
> 
> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	15. Rumor Has It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With finals weighing down on me, things might get delayed again. But I'm still here and I'm still working on it. So, don't lose hope. I will continue to post!

Shea sits next to Cullen on the couch listening to him converse with her mother.  She’s never been shy, at least not to this extent.  She has a death grip on his hand and has her face half hidden in his furry mantle.  She can’t bring herself to look at the elf sitting across from them or even really listen to the conversation.  She hates herself for acting like this.  This might be her only chance to meet and get to know this woman.  Especially since they need to get back to the castle to find out what the hell is going on.  Not to mention they need to prepare to continue their journey.

Cullen thinks she’s adorable, of course.  He’ll looks over to smirk down at her every once in a while, only to be glared at.  He just chuckles and jumps back into his conversation with Sheanni.  He knows though that she will regret not talking to her.

“Would you mind if I go check on Brandon?  He’s probably wondering what’s taking so long.”

Her grip tightens on his hand and he turns in his seat to face her.  He meets her eyes and runs his finger down her scar.  She sighs and releases his hand.  She knows what he is doing.  Though she wants him to stay, she knows he’s doing this for her own good.  He kisses her lightly before standing.  He leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

Sheanni shifts in her seat and leans forward.  “This must be strange for you.”  Shea nods. “21 years and you had no idea?”

“None.  Not until I became a mage.”

“How did that happen exactly?  Your father told me you weren’t one.”

“I wasn’t.  Until I used that orb on Corypheus.”

“Orb?”

“It’s called a Foci.  Ancient elves used it to… store their magic.  Or amplify it.”

“I’ve never heard of it.  Though each clan has its own history.  Some clans know more about the ancients than others.  Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“Being a mage.  Being elf-blooded.”

Shea doesn’t really know how to answer that.  She misses being her old self.  A skilled warrior with no questions about her past.  Now, her whole life has been turned on its head and she feels a bit lost.  She’d never tell Cullen that since he worries enough about her wellbeing as it is.  She has come to accept things as they are, adapting to it as she had the mark, but her life doesn’t feel like her own anymore.  “I… don’t know.  I’ve come to accept it. The mage thing.  Being elf-blooded doesn’t really impact me as much.  Though not being… fully aware of my lineage has presented some problems.  It would be no different if I was born to a human woman, however.”

“So, being a mage bothers you more than having an elf for a mother?”

“I suppose so.  I try not to dwell on what-ifs, but the things I’m learning about my family make me wonder what life would have been life if Father was allowed to be himself.  Or if he had run away with you.  Though it does no good to think about these things.  What happened has happened and there is no changing it.  The puzzle pieces have fallen into place, unless there are more surprises I am unaware of, and I just have to accept the way they fit together or become lost in the details.”

“You are wise for someone so young.”

Shea chuckles.  “I get that a lot.”

“Are you happy?”

“I believe so.  Yes.  Sometimes I wish my life were simpler, but I wouldn’t change anything.  If things had been different… Well, I wouldn’t have found Cullen.  I wouldn’t be about to have his child.  Honestly, I’d probably be dead.”

“I feel the same way, for the most part.”

“What would you change?  Because it sounds like you have some regrets.”

Sheanni nods.  She traces the lines in her palm.  Shea releases that she is doing the same thing.  “I love… loved your father.  I’m not even sure what drew me to him to begin with.  He seemed just like every other shem in that marketplace, but when he helped me with that piece of glass, though I could have easily taken care of myself, my opinions began to shift.  I had been around shems long enough to recognize nobility.  So it struck me as odd that he would get his knee and hands dirty to help a knife ear.”

“There’s something that’s been bothering me about all this.  Father hated elves.  Especially Dalish elves.”

Sheanni chuckles.  “There are exceptions to every rule.  I cannot speak for him, but I believe that his disdain stemmed from how I was treated by my clan.  But mostly I think Dalish elves reminded him of me and how he couldn’t live the life he truly wanted.”

“If that’s true then why was he pressuring Brandon into finding me a suitable match?  Why wouldn’t he let me choose for myself?”

“It’s the only life he has ever known.  Having a mistress and a wife is not unheard of.  Plus, you are a girl and your new position of power made him uncomfortable.  He was proud, of course, at least once all the religious aspects of your ascension were cast aside in favor of a new title.  But you are aware of your family’s preposterous traditions regrading emotion.  He would never tell you that.  He did say that to me though.  You found his journal, no?  It’s all in there.”

“Why don’t you have his responses?”

“He loved keeping records.  And he liked being efficient.  So, he wanted them to be kept together.  When he’d visit, he’d take them with him to add to the journal.  We wrote often.”  Sheanni goes quiet and covers her mouth.  “I’m sorry.  I still can’t believe…”

Shea is torn with what to do.  Should she comfort this woman?  She didn’t feel this connection to her father that this women did.  The gesture felt empty.  She had no attachment to her and the only time she ever saw something more than anger or hatred in her father was when she left for the conclave.  But she could sympathize on a personal level.  She has felt this pain.  She has watched Cullen die and had almost died herself.   So, she stands and sits next to her.  She places her hand on the elf’s back.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The elf looks over at her.  Her amethyst eyes bore into her.  “Do you not feel his loss as well?”

Shea shakes her head.  “I didn’t know my father like you did.  He was distant and cold.  I honestly didn’t think he had any fondness for me until after his death.  Showing weakness and emotion was not the Trevelyan way.”

Sheanni scoffs.  “I’m sorry that you had to live that way.  You should know that he did love you.  He was proud of you even if he didn’t believe you were sent by Andraste.  He loved all of his children though he could ever show it.”

“How does that make any sense?”

“It doesn’t.  I tried to tell him that, but you know how stubborn he can be.”

The door opens and Brandon walks in, followed by Cullen.  “So.  You’re my father’s mistress?”

Sheanni nods.  “I was never called that until now, but yes.  We were together a very long time.”

Shea stands and goes to Cullen.  She takes his hand and he smiles at her.  Brandon plops down on the couch.  “What is it you want then?  To be officially recognized?  Money?  What is it you want from my sister?”

“I don’t want anything from you.  Either of you.  I have no expectations or claims to make.  Though if you want me to leave, I’m not sure where I can go.  This has been my home for 21 years.”

Shea steps forward and looks down at her brother.  “What harm would it cause for her to stay here?  She loved our father after all.  Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“She’s _your_ mother.  If you want her to stay here, then she can.  It’s not like we’re actually using the house.”

Sheanni sighs.  “I think I should go.  This place… it reminds me of him and… right now that is far too painful.  Again, I don’t know where I would go, but I don’t think I should stay here.”

Cullen nods.  “If you wanted to stay in the area, I’m sure the people of Golden Grove would accept you.  You are technically Fereldan.”

She chuckles.  “You don’t know many Dalish, do you?  While I appreciate the offer, I think maybe it’s time I try to reconnect with my own kind.”

“My friend, Moira, is Dalish.  She is headed back to Wycome soon with her hunters.  She is the clan’s first.  I’m sure she would welcome you.”

“What is the clan name?”

“Lavellan.”

Sheanni smiles.  “I have met a few Lavellans in my time.  They are very… accepting of shems.”

“I’d say they are more than accepting.  They helped save the city and now live there.  Their Keeper is on the city council and helping to run it.”

Sheanni stands.  “Then maybe I should speak to this Moira.  It was a pleasure meeting you all.  I’m feeling rather tied.”

Brandon stands.  “Then you can stay here for the time being, but Moira leaves in the morning.”

Shea nods.  “I can talk to her when we get back to the castle.  Brandon, would you be ok with our Dalish friends swinging by here on their way out?”

He shrugs.  “Sure.  We should head back anyway.”  He looks at Sheanni.  “Sorry if I scared you earlier.”

“It’s alright.”

He heads for the door, “I’ll meet you two at the stables.”  He leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

Sheanni turns to Shea.  She walks up to her and places her hands on her cheeks.  “I see so much of both of us in you.  And I am glad to have finally met you and see the woman you have grown into.”

The gesture feels far too intimate for Shea.  She wants to pull away.  This stranger might be her mother, but it doesn’t give her the right to be this close to her.  That thought chills her to her very core.  Maybe she is more Trevelyan than she realized.  She has the strong desire to run away.  But she stands her ground.  She thanks her lucky starts that she had to foresight so long ago to get her facial expressions under control.  “It was nice to meet you as well.”

Sheanni kisses her cheeks and then turns to Cullen.  “And it was nice to meet you too, young man.”

She offers her hand to him and takes it.  He smirks.  “I am hardly a young man anymore.  The world has a funny way for bringing people together.”

“I would say take care for her, but you seem to be doing that already.  Safe travels.  I will let you know what I decide to do.  And it’s probably too much to hope that you’ll stay in touch.”

Cullen nods.  “Of course, we will.”  Shea just nods along with him.  They exchange hugs and goodbyes.  She allows Cullen to lead her out of the room to make it appear that she is reluctant to leave.  At least that’s what she hopes it looks like.  The door clicks closed behind them and the bolt clicks.  Cullen leads her down the hallway and down one flight of stairs.  He stops and turns to her.  “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“You barely talked to her.  And you may have been able to fool her with that bit at the end, but I know you and when you pull the Ben-Hassrath stuff, I know something is wrong.”

She sighs.  “Can we at least get out of here before we talk about this?”

He nods.  “As long as you promise to actually talk to me.”

Her brows knit together.  “Are you implying that I was going to keep it from you?”

“No.  But I know how we get.  Things get painful and we clam up.  We don’t want to share the pain with the other.”

“Like you and the things you did as a templar.”

He hangs his head.  “Precisely.”

“Well, unlike you, I don’t…”  She bites her tongue and continues down that stairs.  He grabs her arm to stop her.

“Hey.  I get it.  You’re still mad that I won’t tell you.  Just don’t shut me out.  This whole day has been…”

“Oh please.  Tell me how this day been.  I brought this upon myself.  I should have stayed put.  I should have just stayed alone in the castle and just waited for you to come back.”

She starts to walk away again but he pulls her back.  “Shea.  Look at me.” He turns her chin towards him.

“Unhand me, Cullen.”

The words sting.  “Where do you plan to go?”

“Back to the castle.”  His grip loosens on her arm.  She doesn’t pull away.  She looks over at him.  “I’m sorry.”

“For?”  She kisses him quickly and rushes down the stairs.  He chases after her.  “Shea!  Please don’t make me chase you!”

“Then don’t follow me.”

“You know it can’t do that.”

She rushes past her brother and climbs onto her waiting horse.  She spurs it as Cullen mounts his.  “What’s going on?”

“I don’t have time explain.”  Cullen spurs his horse and charges after her.  The light is quickly fading and he won’t be able to find her if she disappears into the trees.  He pushes his horse harder and faster knowing full well she can’t go this fast.  He gains on her rapidly.  Her hair flies behind her as she pushes her horse as fast as her body can handle, which she knows isn’t near fast enough.  But what she hasn’t told Cullen or anyone is that as she adjusts to her magic, the elf-blood in her is starting to allow her to see in the dark, like every other elf.  She just needs to reach the edge of their land before he does.  She honestly has no idea why she is running from him.  It just feels like what she needs to do.

He rides up next to her and slows his horse.  “Shea!  Please stop!”

She pulls on the reins of her horse to slow it down.  “I just need to clear my head.”  She stops her horse completely and dismounts.  She charges down the path towards the trees.  “Please let me do that.”

He brings his horse to stop in the center of the path through the vines.  He completely blocks her path with his horse before hopping off to stand in front of her.  He grabs her faces and she tries to pull his hands away by grabbing his wrists.  “Love.  What’s wrong?”

“I’m a horrible person!  Happy now?”

“How are you a horrible person?  Because you feel no connection to her?”

She meets his eyes.  “How…?”

“I know you.  You only run when you feel like you’ve done something wrong.”

“That’s not always true.  I ran at Adamant.”

“Is this like that then?”

She walks towards him and then rests her head on his chest.  “Am I a weakling?  Am I heartless?  Have I become what my parents made me?”

He wraps his arms around her.  “Love.  You can’t expect to just suddenly feel like she is your mother.  She may have given birth to you, but she didn’t raise you.  You are not your parents.  You do not hide your love away.  You wear it on your sleeve for all the world to see.  She is a stranger to you and no one can expect you to magically love her as…”

“As I love you?  As a parent should love a child?”

“Is that it?  You fear that you will treat our child as you have been treated?” She shakes against him.  How is he able to see so clearly into her head?  With a few words from her, he had gotten to the root of it all.  “Come back with me.  We can talk this out.  You are not your parents.  You have not settled for the cards dealt to you.  You have chosen to make a better life for yourself.  A life full of love and light.  You are not your family.”

She wraps her arms around him.  “I’m sorry I ran from you.”

“Why did you?”

“Fear.  Of myself.  Of what I fear I’m becoming by being here.  Of forcing you to become someone you aren’t.  Like my father forced his children to live a life they didn’t ask for.  Fear that I will never escape this life.”

“No matter what life we live.  The Inquisition.  Nobles in Ostwick.  Farmers in Ferelden.  It matters not.  We have each other.  Where we are, the jobs we have, the roles we must play… they mean nothing.  This.  Right here.  Is all I need.  It’s all we need.  The past doesn’t matter.”

She looks up at him.  “How…?  How are you able to…?”  She sighs at reaches up to touch his face.  “Sometimes I feel more broken than you ever were.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, but I won’t belittle how you feel.  And even if you are, you have one thing that I didn’t when things were at their worst.”

“What’s that?”

“Someone who loves you and cares for you more than anything.  I won’t ever leave you to deal with things on your own.  So unless you command me to leave you, I won’t.”  She presses up on her toes and kisses him.  He captures her face and holds her lips to his.  He keeps her pressed against him for a long time.  She eventually chuckles and he pulls back.  “What?”

“I was just thinking that you might have magic powers of your own to be able to put me in check so quickly.”

“I know my audience.  And I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me.  Not since that fiasco at Halamshiral anyway.  Come on.  We should get back to Brandon before it gets too dark, since neither one of us knows where we are.”  They mount their horses and travel quickly back to the estate.

***

After spending nine days in Ostwick, she is happy to be leaving, though she isn’t thrilled about the destination.  They has a boat full of prisoners for Leliana to interrogate.  Which means Cullen needs more people with him to transport them.  So when she parts from him after docking at West Hills, she and Dorian are the only two that get off the boat.  They don’t know if sending a Tevinter with her through Ferelden is the best idea, but she has little to no options.  It is either him or Sera and she feels he is the better choice as they are travelling through noble country.

Despite having to deal with rifts by themselves, they are making great time.  Before they know it, it has been almost two weeks since leaving Ostwick.  They are close to Amaranthine when Shea spots Sky flying towards them.  She looks over at Dorian, “Looks like they made it back.”

“Want to take a break so you can read that before we get into town?”

“That’s probably a good idea.  We need to get ready for some rifts too.  Amaranthine is a big place and the Black Marsh seems to be full of rifts.”

“Didn’t you say that the veil was weakened a lot there?”

She nods.  “The Warden Queen of Ferelden had to deal with some weird shit out there.  People tend to avoid it, but we can’t just let demons roam around either.”  She stops her horse and holds out her arm.  Sky swoops down and lands in her forearm.  Shea scratches her head before removing the paper from the metal tube.  She smirks.  “Looks like your man missed you too.”  She hands Dorian the rolled up paper.

He unrolls it and scoffs.  “Yes.  He misses me.  That plus he and Sera took time to draw some rather… distasteful drawings.”

“Really?  May I?”  He hands her the paper and she laughs.  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you make that face.”

“That’s because I haven’t.  And what about our dear Commander?”  She hands him back his letter before unrolling her own.  “Worrying about me as usual.  He misses me and has… he didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“He asked Bull where he could… have I told you about what we did in Ostwick?”

“I take it you don’t mean all this business with assassins, Cullen’s new title, and your mother.  Because if it is, I think we’ve exhausted those topics.”  Her face turns red.  “Oh this should be good.”

“He actually wanted me to tell you this so he could watch your face.  He thinks you’ll be jealous.”

“Oh, he’s probably right.  The whole castle was buzzing about what the two of you did right before he became Bann.”

“Well…”  She can’t help but smirking as she looks over at him.  “I may have… I’m trying to think of the best way to put this that doesn’t sound crass.”

“Darling.  I think it’s perfectly fine to be crass with a man you’ve fucked.”

She covers her face.  “How is it that you two can still make me blush like this?”

“Come on.  Out with it!”

She licks her lips and closes her eyes.  Her mind starts painting the lovely scene before her.  Her hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, her fingers fucking him, and rubbing the mound inside him, making him erupt like a volcano.  She opens her eyes and shifts in the saddle.  She’s wet just thinking about it.  “I fucked him.”

“Well, yes.  I’m sure you do that quite often.”

“I don’t think you catch me meaning.”  She folds up two fingers and smirks.  “I mean I fucked him.”

Dorian gasps and places his hand over his heart.  “No!  Damn you!”

She laughs.  “You want details I imagine.”

“All of them!  But first, what did he ask Bull?”

Her blush deepens.  “Where to… obtain a… I’m not even sure what they are called.  But he wants me to fuck him like he fucks me.”

“Well, I can help with that.  But you will have to await until you aren’t pregnant anymore.  I’m sure Bull will be helping him find one that will suit him, but the harness required needs to be custom fit to you.  If fitted correctly, you should both be able to get off.”

“How the hell do you know all this stuff?”

He chuckles.  “Haven’t you heard?  I’m the naughty Tevinter mage sent here to corrupt the dear sweet Inquisitor.”

She laughs.  “I take it you’re happy that Mother Giselle has been called to serve the Divine in the Grand Cathedral?”

“Naturally.”

“So, why do I have to wait?”

“You could just hold it and fuck him, but where’s the fun in that for you?  I don’t know for sure, but I imagine if your armor caused you discomfort, then strapping a tight harness on you and then having it press again your pelvis as you fuck him won’t be a pleasant experience.”

“I see your point.”

“As far as where to find one.  Well, as long as a city has brothel, I can almost guarantee that there’s a secret shop in town the sells what you want.”

She rubs her chin.  “I’m pretty sure Denerim has one.”

“I don’t doubt it.  Big cities are full of people looking to fulfill some sort of fantasy.  However, since you’ll be in the city for official reasons, you probably shouldn’t be seen in these places.  I can go shopping once this meeting of yours is done.  Though, I’m not sure Ferelden is the best place to look for these things.  Orlais would be far better since their appetites for these things are more… open.”

“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to Orlais.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

“We should probably get moving.”

They spur their horses and continue along the road.  “So?  How was it?”

“Maker.  I never seen him so… he really enjoyed it.  As did I.  The uh… fucking him part. With the… harness?”  He nods. “Was actually his idea.”

He sighs.  “If only Bull would let us have another night together… well, I best not hope for something that’ll never happen.”

“Only if we’re willing to bring him along.”

“Did he say that?”

“Yep.  And based on your description of him…”

He chuckles.  “Yes, I can see why you two would be hesitant.  He knows that too.  He’s never mentioned that caveat to me.  The offer is off the table as far as I’m aware.  I’m sure he threw him being a participant in to dissuade you from pursuing it further.”

“Because he could see that we would pursue it, I think.”

“Indeed.  He is still very surprised it went as far as it did.”

“Did you tell him everything that happened?”

He laughs.  “You know him.  He always has to have every bit of information he can get his hands on.  He’s also very… persuasive.”

“Is it his persuasiveness that has kept you from returning home?”

“Yes.  And you, of course.  You are my dearest friend and going back home means I don’t get to see and talk to you.  Though Mae asks about when I’m returning quite often.”

“You’ve been in contact then?”

“Yes.  Things are progressing in a way she has not anticipated and she needs someone with experience by her side.”  Shea feels a pain in her side and presses on it.  “Something wrong, dear?”

She can see the city gates from where they are.  She gets off her horse and he follows behind her.  “I’m not sure.”

“What are you feeling?”

“It’s like a small stabbing pain in my side.”  She presses her hand against her side just above her hip.  Dorian ties his horse to hers and comes over to her.  He bats her hand away and presses on her gently.  “Ow.”

“Is the pain internal or external?”

“Both.”

“That’s a little too close to Baby Rutherford for my tastes.  Let’s walk the rest of the way and find someone who knows more about these thing take a look at you.  How far along are you now?”

“If I’ve kept up with the days correctly… 21 weeks.”

“Come along now.  Maybe walking will help.”

***

_Dearest Cullen,_

_I’m having someone bring the horses back to Skyhold.  A midwife in Amaranthine has told me to stop riding.  Everything is fine.  I had some pain on the way into the city, but she assures me that it’s just growing pains.  I’m on bed rest for the day and then we’re going to power through these rifts before heading to Denerim by coach._

_I’ve written Alistair to tell him the issue and he’s sending one for me.  He seems happy that I’m so close and have taken care of a lot of rifts, but even this close I’m not hearing anything about the summons or what I’ll be walking into._

_Dorian thinks I should wear something fancy and not my armor when I go to meet them.  Do my makeup and hair.  Really show off the fact I’m getting super fat now.  My words, not his.  The baby is really starting to kick now.  I can’t wait for you to feel it.  10 gold says you’ll cry._

_Hope all is well in Skyhold.  Gotten any information from the prisoners?  I don’t like going this long without word._

_Also, I was speaking to Dorian about what you were speaking to Bull about and he says if we’re going to do this properly, then we’ll have to wait until I’m no longer pregnant and that there’s some kind of harness involved.  This is news to me.  Did you know that if a city has a brothel that they’ll have a secret shop somewhere that sells stuff like that?  I didn’t.  Of course, I don’t know a lot of stuff in regards to this kind of thing._

_I’ve rambled long enough.  I miss you terribly and I love you._

_Shea_

***

Cullen chews his thumb nail as he reads her letter in his office.  If he leaves now, it would be two week before he reached Denerim and by then she will have already had her meeting.  Reports and papers are piled high on his desk.  Jim and Lysette have been helping make sense of it all.  There is no way he could leave now.  He doesn’t imagine he’d be able to leave for a while.  He worries about the two of them handling rifts when it was typically a four person job.  And they are both mages.  Yet he is confident that Dorian isn’t going to let any harm come to her and at the same time, she’ll have a hard time hanging back if he gets hit.  He finds himself worried about Dorian being hurt too.  They aren’t as good of friends as the mage is with Shea, but he can’t help but me close to someone who has his dick in their mouth.  He squeezes the bridge of his nose to try to push the images of their night together away.  The last thing he needs right now is an erection while trying to get caught up on his work.

His muscles are knotted together from being hunched over a desk all day.  And for some reason, he can hear the lyrium singing in Lysette’s pocket.  His headache is slowly building and he wants nothing more than to just go to their room and go to sleep.  His prayers go unanswered though as Josie stops him on the way there.  “Commander.  Bann.  It occurs to me that I’m not sure how to address you now.”

He smiles weakly.  “Commander is fine.”

She nods.  “Commander.  Bull has managed to get one of the men to surrender a cipher for the letters we found on Shea’s attackers.”

“That’s excellent news.”

“Indeed.  I’m having them sent to Leliana now.”

“What happened there?  I thought she was coming to us?”

Josie rolls her eyes.  “She got as far as the port in Val Royeaux before someone noticed she was gone.  They sounded the alarm, fearing she’d been kidnapped.  So, she had to go back.”

“I can send her the cipher unless you’ve done it already.”

“It’s taken care of.  That’s not why I needed to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“Word has gotten out that the Inquisitor is the Right Hand of the Divine.”

He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head.  “Shit.  We forgot all about that.”

“People are wondering what this all means.  Her power is only growing and I’m starting to hear buzzing that the reason she was summoned to Denerim is because Ferelden fears that power.”

“It sounds like you have something on your mind.”

She nods.  “She needs to relinquish some of her power.”

“How?”

“She needs to go to the Grand Cathedral and resign for one.  Then I think she needs to… formally step aside in Ostwick.”

“That’s impossible.  Especially now that I’m Bann.  People know we’re together.  And her brother went to great lengths to make sure our child is legitimate.”

“Yes, but that power is yours and not hers.  They are separate for you.  If we are going to keep Ferelden off our backs, she needs to go down to one title.”

“That’s asking a lot of her.  Besides, Brandon will never agree.”

“We must do something.  She has built up a powerful organization.  Our connections, spies, and army are becoming renowned.  And she is starting to become a legend.  Orlais supports us, for now, but if she can’t calm the Ferelden court while she is there, we may not have any options.”

“Why are we just hearing about this?”

“News out of Ferelden has been limited.  Our spy network is the only reason we’re even hearing about it at all.  Which hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“Then she needs to be warned that she’s walking into a hornet’s nest.  You know how she hates surprises.  You should know that she is having travel issues due to her pregnancy.”

Josie places a hand on her heart.  “Is she alright?”

“Yes.  But she can’t ride on horseback anymore.”

“I’m sure she can’t be happy about that.  Has she secured a way to Denerim?”

“King Alistair is sending a carriage to pick her up from Amaranthine.”

“Oh dear.  I wish she had let us do that.  She’s at his mercy now.”

“You think he’ll be unreasonable?  Do we need to send people her way?  The men in Ostwick could be there the fastest.”

“No. No.  Nothing that extreme.  But she’ll be a royal guest and watched more closely.  Warning her is sounding like a better idea every moment.”

“I’ll let her know.”  He starts to leave and she steps in front of him.  “Is there something else?”

She bites her lip and looks around.  “I’ve heard a rumor.  It’s not a good one.”

“Oh?”

She looks around again.  “There’s been talk about… the father of your child.”

He rolls his eyes.  “What now?”

“They say that your determination to make the child legitimate is just a way to cover up the child’s paternity.”

“Where the hell are these things coming from?”

“Orlais and some in Ferelden.  The Free Marches and Nervarra are actually in agreement that your actions are genuine.  Antiva doesn’t care either way.  And Tevinter will only care if the rumors ring true.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“I agree.  I have a solution.  If you’ll let me do it.”

“What is it?”

She bites her lip.  “I know how who feel about your personal life, but if I allow our people to talk about the night all of Skyhold heard you, because I’ve been telling them not to talk about it, then the argument would be made moot.  I also have a handful of healers who say her maiden head was intact before that night.”

His face burns and he rubs his neck.  He knows that part isn’t completely true.  The desk was not her first time and as far as her maiden head is concerned, it was taken against her will.  “I’ll have to ask her how she feels about that last part, but fine.  Let them talk.  They’ll be eager enough.”  He is about to walk around her when he stops himself.  “Who are they saying is the father if not me?”

“There are a few names floating around.  And the picture they are painting of her is not one either of you will like.”

“Are they claiming she’s a whore?”

“Sleeping her way to power?  Yes.”

He groans.  “Then let the healers talk too.  She going to be very angry about that.  Who are these men?”

“Dorian.  Hawke.  I’ve even had a few reports saying that Varric or Solas might be the father.”

“Anyone else?”

“Duke Gaspard.”

“You’re kidding!  He’s dead!  And has been for a while now.  How would that even have been possible?”

“I know.  It’s preposterous.  But that’s what some people are saying.”

“Are any of these people her mother?”

“Her mother?”

“Donna Trevelyan.  Known in most circles as Donna Clara.”

Josie gasps.  “That’s her mother!”

“Yes.  Why?”

“Then yes.  Most of these are being circled around by her or people who can be traced back to her.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Lady Ambassador.  You are very capable woman.  More experienced the in Game than any of us.  Please just… take care of all this.  I’m not the person to ask about how to proceed.”

“You will need to learn, my lord.  Ostwick plays the Game too.”

He groans.  “Don’t remind me.”

She nods.  “I’ll take care of it as I think she would.  Then write up a report for the both of you as to the results.”

“Thank you, Josie.  Now, if you don’t mind I need to lay down.”

“Certainly.  Until tomorrow, Commander.”

Josie scurries into her office and Cullen trudges to their room.  He locks the door, unhooks the bell on the way up, and stops at his armor stand.  His eyes roam over her old armor.  He doesn’t know why she insists on keeping it when she will likely never wear it again.  The axe hanging behind it hasn’t been used in months.  He removes his armor and places it on the stand.  His ornate shield hangs behind it.  He unhooks his sword from the belt and hangs it next to the matching shield.  His old sword and shield are in a trunk in his old room, likely rusting or collecting dust.  He runs his fingers through his hair and turns away from the stand with a sigh.

He walks in his smalls to her desk and sits in the chair.  He pulls out some of her enchanted paper.  He can feel it hum. _Am I relapsing? Why can I suddenly hear the song again?_   He pushes the thought aside as he writes her for the second time that day.

***

Shea watches Dorian sleep in their carriage to Denerim.  The luxurious upholstery a welcome break from a hard saddle.  Though the refinery makes her visit seem much more official than before.  Cullen’s letter was no help in putting her at ease.  What made him think using the phrases viper’s or hornet’s nest would make her feel better?  _Well, at least I won’t be surprised._

The carriage hits a pot hole and the jolt wakes Dorian.  “Vishante kaffas!  Is he going to hit every one of those damn things?!”

“It appears so.”

He looks over at her.  He sends a dimly glowing orb into the air to brighten the carriage.  “Have you not slept?”

“I can’t.  I’ve tried.”

“Worried about tomorrow?”

“A little yes.”

“You and the King have been pen pals for some time now.  And you’re Fade besties with the Queen.  Surely, that’ll mean something.”

“Not to the nobles.  They hold the real power in Ferelden.  Or at least that’s what it looks like in all the books I’ve read.”

“Sounds a bit like the Archon.  Everyone knows the Magisters hold the power and he’s just a figurehead and scapegoat.  What are you worried about?”

She sighs and lays down on her seat.  She looks to at the top of the carriage and rests her hand on her stomach.  The curve forms a round mound that goes from just below her chest arcs up and rounds all the way down.  It is firmer now and she is starting to be able to see it over her chest when she stands.  When she pokes at it, the baby will kick.  She does this now and sighs happily.

“It moving again?”

“Want to feel it?”

“As long as you don’t tell your templar that I felt it before he has.”  Dorian moves to sit next to her and she takes his hand.  She places it on the spot the baby kicked and presses his hand down.  The baby kicks him and he smiles.  “And that doesn’t hurt you?”

“Only when it kicks my bladder.”

He chuckles.  “So, what are you worried about with the visit?”

“Ferelden seems to be uncomfortable with our presence at their border.  They fear the force we’ve mustered.  I blame the Orlesian invasion.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yes, but you’ve seen how they act in regards to Orlais.  Even Cullen has that Fereldan mentality about it.  Josie thinks they worry that the power will go to our… my head and I’ll choose to take over all of Southern Thedas.  Which is stupid, why would I want that when I don’t even want to rule something as small as Ostwick?”

“Darling. You and Cullen are starting to be seen as a united front.”

“So, you think that him becoming Bann has made people think I’m set on conquering the world?”

“It’s possible.  We won’t know for sure until your meeting.”

She nods.  “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave my side while we’re here unless you have express permission from me.  Verbal and visual.  Do not accept written consent.  I’ve seen Bull forge papers and someone might be capable of that here.  I worry that we don’t have enough friends here and though I trust the King, I… don’t know or trust anyone else.”

“That I can promise.  If I have to pull the maleficar card to keep them from messing with us, then I will.”

She sits up and hugs him.  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.  But thank you.”

He hugs her tightly and they feel the carriage slow.  “It appears to be show time.”

The door opens and they step out.  They are stopped in front of the Ferelden Royal Palace.  Soldiers line the path from the carriage to the large main doors.  A sharply dressed man bows to them.  “Inquisitor.  Master Pavus.  Welcome to Denerim. We’ve been expecting you for some time.”  He straightens and motions for them to follow him.  “His Highness has set aside some rooms for you.”

“Are they adjoining?”

“Pardon?”

Shea stands a little straighter.  Her voice sounded a little weak when she first spoke.  She pushes her anxiety deeper and pulls her authority up.  “I asked if the rooms are adjoining.”

“Not that I am aware of, but if you would prefer to have a shared sitting room, I think I can arrange that.”

“That would be appreciated.  In my… delicate state,” she rests her hand on her stomach, “It would make me feel more at ease.  One never knows when complications will arise.”

Dorian smirks and reaches forward to fold her arm over his.  He helps her walk up the stairs.  She’s playing up the weak pregnant woman routine.

The man nods.  “I will have someone bring your belongings shortly so that you may get more comfortable.”  They follow him through the dark hallways, mentally drawing a picture of the layout so they might be able to find their way out in a hurry.  He pauses in front of a door then nods to himself.  “This should be suitable.”  He opens the door to a decent sized sitting room.  Dorian helps her sit on the couch.  “These doors lead to your bedrooms and this one to the washroom.  Should you require anything, there will be people stationed in the hall.”  He bows to them and exits.

She chuckles. “Does that make it sound like we’re prisoners to you?”

He nods.  “There is only one way to test it.  I would also like to congratulate you on your quick thinking playing the delicate flower.”

“Yes, but what people forget is that some flowers have thorns.”

There is a knock on the door and it opens before they can respond.  Their belongings are placed just inside the door.  Dorian is quick to notice something is missing.  “Excuse me.”

One of the men stops on his way out and turns to face him.  The man bows. “How may I help you, ser?”

“Where are our staves?”

He looks at the pile of things he just brought in.  “I not sure, ser.”

“Then I suggest you find out.”

He bows and backs out of the room.  “Yes, ser.”  The door closes and Dorian shakes his head.

“Yes.  Definitely prisoners. Though they aren’t hiding it very well.”

“If we don’t receive them by morning, I’ll complain.  Let’s at least try to get some rest. Morning will come quickly.”

There is another knock on the door. Dorian goes to it and opens it.  “My, my, my.  Oh all the faces, yours was not one we expected.”

He steps aside and Morrigan glides into the room.  “I didn’t expect to be here this long either.”

Shea turns on the couch to face the door.  She smiles as the witch approaches. “I figured you’d be gone by now.”

“As did I, but the King has been very accommodating.  Kieran is enjoying getting to know his father.”

“That’s going well then?”

Morrigan sits across from her.  Dorian closes the door and sits next to Shea.  “Better than expected. It is an odd thing to be treated like a hero returning home.”

“What brings you here at this hour?”

“The city has been buzzing that you were headed this way.  I’ve been waiting.  There are things you should know before you meet with Alistair.”

She sighs.  “More complications I take it?”

“Not on his end.  He wanted your first meeting to be private.  He expressed as much, but the lords and ladies of Ferelden won’t hear it. They all wish to lay eyes on the Hero of Thedas. Your efforts to close more rifts has not gone unnoticed and has softened a lot of them towards you and your motives.  I assume that was your plan?”

“Indeed.”

“There is talk of them asking you to disband the Inquisition entirely, but nothing is set yet.  Arl Teagan is the loudest voice in this.”

“Of Redcliffe?”

“Yes.  Though he is not unwilling to listen to Alistair, he still has very strong opinions about it.  Especially since the Inquisition holds a Ferelden keep.”

Shea rubs her temples.  “If they want it back, they only have to ask.  As it stands, they haven’t asked or offered to send their own men to hold it.  Otherwise, bandits will move back in.  This is frustrating.”

Morrigan nods. “I agree.  But that’s Ferelden for you.  Constantly paranoid that someone is going to come back in and take over.”

“I have no intention of doing that.”

“They’ll be happy to hear that.  How’s Cullen and the baby?  I expected him to be with you”

“He’s fine.  And he would have been had his duties not pulled him away.  And the baby seems healthy.  It’s kicking in earnest now.”

Morrigan smiles.  “An awkward yet joyous phase.  Have the two of you dreamed together yet?”

“I’m not a Dreamer.”

“Haven’t you been working on that?”

“Yes, but I haven’t had much luck.”

“Maybe Danielle can assist you.”

Shea smiles brightly.  “She’s still here?”

“She just arrived this morning.  She and Alistair have been locked in their room all day.  No one else knows expect their closest friends.  She’s supposed to be off on Warden business, trying to cure the taint and make it so they are no longer controlled by the Calling.  From what she tells me, she hasn’t had much luck.”

“Which means the chances of an heir is slim to none?”

“Won’t stop them from trying.  And more power to them.  Otherwise, they’ll be forced to make Kieran their heir, which is not something I want.”

“I know the feeling.  Is there anything else I need to know?”

Morrigan nods.  “Be careful with how much authority you exhibit.  And you don’t want to appear too weak that they can just walk all over you.  It would seem that Ferelden has started playing their own version of the Game, though it’s not as nuanced as Orlais.”

“Well, that does give me an advantage.”

“Precisely.  If you play like you did in Orlais, you’ll emerge the victor.  I’ll leave you to rest.  You have a long few days ahead of you.”

Morrigan stands and leaves the room.  Shea looks over at Dorian.  “We have more friends here than we thought.”

“And powerful ones at that.”

“I’m trying not to the let that alter anything.  If the Landsmeet stands against us, Alistair will have little choice but to do as they say.”

He pats her arm.  “Well, if they decide to lock you up, I’ll be in there right beside you.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

“Only time will tell.”  He kisses her forehead, “Good night, my friend.”  Dorian pushes open one of the doors.  “Well, this place is quaint isn’t it?”  She chuckles as he disappears into one of the bedrooms.

She pulls some paper out of her bag and begins responding to Cullen’s letter.  She manages to write the word “Sweetheart” on the paper before there is a gentle tapping on the door.  She sets the paper aside and pulls herself off the couch.  She walks to the door.  She has a sinking feeling as she places her hand on the knob.  She presses her ear against to wood and calls out.  “Who is it?”

A gruff man’s voice responds.  “Open the door.”

She bolts it and feigns fear.  “Not until I know who’s there.”

A bang on the door is the response.  Dorian comes out of his bedroom in nothing but his smalls.  “Who is that?”

“He won’t say.”

“Open the door this instant Inquisitor!”

She looks back at Dorian and she takes in the view of him.  Her mouth waters and she licks her lips.  He smirks at her.  The banging on the door breaks her focus.  Dorian shrugs.  “He did say this instant.”

She chuckles.  Dorian summons a ball of fire in each hand.  She unbolts the door and flings it open.  “Can I he…?”  Her words get cut off by the sight in front of her.  She waves at Dorian to drop his magic and he does.  She bows slightly, “King Alistair.”

He scowls at the guard in front of him.  “Now was banging on the door really necessary?  Shoo.  I can handle this on my own.”  The guard opens his mouth to protest but Alistair pushes past him.  “That’s an order.”  The guard grunts, bows, and salutes.  Alistair steps in the room and closes the door behind him.  He doesn’t look like a king in this moment.  His clothes are simple, much like the ones Cullen prefers.  “Sorry to drop in at this hour.  I’m sure you need sleep and what not.”  He looks between the both of them.  “You can stop bowing now.”  He looks over at Dorian.  “And you can put something on or go to sleep.  Whatever.”

She chuckles and holds out her hand.  He shakes it.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, again.  This nearly naked man is Dorian Pavus.”

“Does Cullen know you have a nearly naked man in your room?”

Dorian laughs.  Shea shoots him a look and he locks his lips with an invisible key.  He holds up his hands and back into his room.  With a final smirk, he closes the door.  “To answer your question, that nearly naked man wouldn’t be in the room had your guard not hammered on the door.”

“Yeah.  Sorry about that.  Personal guard can get a little… aggressive.”

She motions to the couch.  “So, what brings you here this late?”

He sits on the couch and then gets right back up.  “Hold that thought.”  He goes to the door and opens it.  He sticks his head out, looks to the left, then the right.  He whistles a few soft notes and then comes back in.  He smiles brightly.  “Just give it a few seconds.”  They stand in silence for a few long moments.  Being alone in her room with the King of Ferelden is a little unnerving.  Three soft short taps followed by two slightly louder knocks sound on the door.  He flings it open and Danielle rushes into the room.

“Well, that was thrilling.  I haven’t snuck through this place since the Blight.”

Her flowing blonde hair is as bright here as it is in the Fade.  The only difference in her appearance between now and then is the less than regal outfit of black leggings and a long green tunic and the long pearlescent scar that runs from the bottom of her earlobe and twists down the side of her neck then disappears into her shirt.  Shea bows slightly.  “Oh, stop that.  If anyone should be bowing, it’s us.”

Alistair bolts the door and takes his wife’s hand.  He leads her to the couch and they sit.  Shea sits across from them.  Being here with them right in front of her in the dead of night, makes her uneasy.  Though she doesn’t know why.  They are in casual clothing.  They are being openly loving with each other.  Alistair nuzzles her neck.  Pushing her hair to the slide to trace his nose along her scar.  She giggles and bats him away.  Is this what people see when they watch her and Cullen tracing each other’s scars?

Danielle smiles at Shea.  “You’re practically glowing!”  Shea blushes and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.  “And no Cullen?”

“He had duties to attend to at Skyhold.  So, it’s just Dorian and I.”

“The Tevinter mage?”

Dorian bursts from his room fully clothed.  “The one and only.”  He spots Danielle.  “You’re the woman from my dream!”

She holds out her hand, “Danielle Theirin.”

He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.  “And more gorgeous in person it would seem.”  Alistair pulls her in closer to him.  Dorian chuckles.  “Don’t worry, your highness.  She’s not my type.”  He winks at the king.  Alistair’s cheeks turn bright red and Dorian goes to sit next to Shea.  “Chantry boys are all the same.”  He plops down next to her.  “So, to what do we owe this late night visit?  I’m sure it’s nothing fun.”

Alistair shakes his head and clears his throat. “Right.  Well, first off, we wanted to meet you in person.  And it seems we’ve done that.”

Danielle pats his leg.  “Second, I wanted to confirm some of the whispers I’ve been hearing in the Fade.  These have been circulating the court too.”

Shea sighs, “Great.  More whispers.  Which ones this time?  I’m trying to take over the world?  I’m having a bastard child with a former templar?  I’m a blood mage?  Or maybe that this baby isn’t Cullen’s and could be Grand Duke Gaspard’s ghost baby?”

Danielle laughs loudly.  “Ghost baby?  The things people come up with.  No, I’m referring to the mage thing.  Particularly that you brought Cullen back from the dead in Ostwick.”

Alistair’s eyes go wide.  “You brought someone back from the dead?!”

“That’s not… entirely true.  He wasn’t dead yet, but it was close.  I nearly killed myself saving him, but fortunately I had help.”

Danielle nods, “How did that happen anyway?”

“It is a very long and complicated story.  The short version is that I’m elf-blooded and I touched an ancient elven orb and ta-da I’m a mage.”

“Are you a Dreamer?  I’ve been trying to reach out to you.”

“I’ve been trying, but I can’t seem to break out of these dreams I keep having.”

Dorian looks over at her.  “You’re still having that dream?”

She nods.  “The difference now is that I’m pregnant in them.”

‘”Is that normal?”

“Morrigan seemed to think so.  She sort of made it sound that babies dream.”

Danielle shifts to lean against Alistair and pulls her feet up in the seat.  “I knew a mage in the Circle.  She had this secret relationship with a templar.  She got pregnant and we helped her hide it.  She wasn’t a Dreamer before that, but one day she kept having dreams with her baby.  Mostly just feeling warm and safe.  But she figured out at some point that is was her baby’s dream.  Do you want to be a Dreamer?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll try to help while I’m here.”

Alistair shifts to better see Shea over Danielle’s head.  “And don’t worry about that whole bastard thing.  Whatever you did in Ostwick put an end to all that.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“I… we wanted to prepare you for tomorrow.  The nobles are…”

“Being ridiculous, as always.”  He smirks at her as she finishes his sentence.

“They know you saved the world, but they are convinced the world doesn’t need saving anymore.”

Shea sighs.  “They know that rifts and demons are still popping up and killing people right?”

“They know.  They just don’t care.  To them, you are an army at our boarder”

Danielle nods.  “More than just that though.  You have the Divine in your pocket.  Or she has you in her pocket.”

“That’s temporary.”

“You’re still the Right Hand until you return that ring.  Whether you wear it or not.”

Alistair holds up his hand.  “Look.  This is all just stupid noble crap.  Stupid noble crap that I can’t fight. It’s up to you to calm them down.  We consider you a friend.  They don’t even know how close we got to being burnt to a crisp by a Venatori fire ship.”

Danielle looks at him.  “And you don’t think that is something they should know?  That she and her people saved us from having to rebuild?  Again.”

“You try to talk to Teagan when he’s all red in the face like that.”

She brushes her fingers through his sandy hair.  “You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that.  You are the king after all.  I hope there weren’t witnesses to this.”

“Well…”

She sighs and looks at Shea.  “This is why the Landsmeet holds so much power over him.  They didn’t act this way until the Civil War and they all think we owe them something for putting the crown on his head.”

Shea leans her head back against the couch suddenly feeling very tied.  “This is… a mess.”

Alistair scoffs.  “You can say that again.”

Danielle pats his leg.  “Listen, Shea.  If it gets out of hand I’ll step in.  Your story is not so different than mine.”

“And people adore her.  As well they should.  And they know that she is the muscle in this relationship.”

“We owe them nothing.  And if I have to remind them of that, I will.”

Dorian twirls his mustache.  “So, you’re the ace in the hole?”

“I can help calm them in a pinch, but if you haven’t calmed them before you leave, I worry what those fools will want to try.”

Shea nods.  “I think Arl Teagan has the most reason to be angry.  Venatori did take over his castle.  But I’ll remind him that not only did we get rid of them, we took the mages off your hands too.”

“Thanks for that.  I tried to be nice and then it back fired.  I think that’s another reason he is so angry.”

Shea tries to stifle a yawn.  Danielle unfolds herself and stands.  “We shouldn’t keep you.”

Alistair stands and takes her hand.  “Unfortunately, there will be no sleeping in.  Wear comfy shoes.”

She chuckles.  “That’s all I wear now.”

“And I’ll make sure your staves are returned.  I had no idea someone went behind my back and ordered that they be confiscated.”

Danielle pats his arm.  “Yes, and you will give them a stern talking to for it.”

He rolls his eyes.  “Yes, dear.”

They bid each other good night and quietly exit the room.  Shea slumps down on the couch next to Dorian.  “Is this worse than the Winter Palace?  Because it feels worse than the Winter Palace.”

He chuckles.  “Depends on your definition.  I’d say this is worse.  No silk sheets.  No wine.  And is it just me, or does this whole place smell like wet dog?”

She laughs.  “Oh Maker!  I didn’t want to say anything, but yes.  Yes, it does.”

Dorian stands.  “Come on.  Let’s get some rest before someone else comes knocking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 27, 2018


	16. Wasting My Time

_Sweetheart,_

_I started writing this last night, but had several interruptions and then the craziness that was today made it impossible to write until now.  Maker I wish you were here.  Alistair, Danielle, and Morrigan have all been welcoming and nice.  Kieran looks so much happier than he was at Skyhold.  But that’s where the pleasantness ends._

_I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here.  I formally met the court and have never been in a more unfriendly place.  It feels a lot like that first day in Haven.  Being glared at as if everything that has transpired is somehow my fault.  I want nothing more than to just say fuck it and come home.  Bless Dorian and Alistair for trying to stand up for me, but… this day has been filled with nothing but standing there and listening to everything these people think I’ve done wrong._

_I’ll get a chance to address all of these things tomorrow, but I’m honestly not sure what to say.  Every single decision I have made that directly affected Ferelden has been thrown into my face.  How am I the villain?  I have saved more people by making the choices I have than not doing anything.  Hell, some of those choices weren’t mine to begin with!  Ugh!_

_I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be writing you to complain.  I’ve already written the report about today.  Every single thing that was said.  I’ll be up that into the night trying to figure out how to address these concerns.  And I hate to ask you and Josie to work late, but I need help._

_But again.  This should be a personal letter.  I… hope you don’t mind.  But I am thinking about asking Dorian if he’ll sleep with me… just sleep not sex… tonight.  I feel so alone here. Exposed.  And Andraste preserve me, I crave you.  And I think… this has me thinking how could I have possibly handled this whole… Inquisition thing to begin with if I didn’t have you?  From day one, you’ve always been there.  Back to back in battle.  You keep me sane.  I would have lost my mind long ago if you weren’t there to bring be back._

_And I know you’re going to say I am being too hard on myself, but it’s true.  I’m nothing without you and I’m feeling that more now than ever.  I know I’ve said this before, but I’m not me without you.  I’m so close to chopping my hair off again just to gain some semblance of control.  This place is worse than the Winter Palace.  At least there, they disguise their disdain with sugary, sweetness.  Not to sound juvenile, but they are so mean here.  I feel both professionally and personally insulted._

_As I said I’ll be up for a while, so if you respond, I’ll be awake to receive it._

_I love you and I miss you (obviously),_

_Shea_

_***_

_My love,_

_My heart aches reading your words.  I feel ashamed of my countrymen.  The choices the Inquisition has made were not easy.  If they have suffered, than I feel sorry about that, but we did the best we could with the hand we were dealt.  They need to be reminded that while the world was running scared, we were charging towards the Breach.  Fighting demons and trying to save everyone we could.  Even you.  Especially you.  You were a prisoner.  Accused of the worst tragedy of this age.  More people died at the conclave than during the Fifth Blight, Ferelden Civil War, and the Chantry explosion in Kirkwall combined.  That includes the men who died at Ostagar._

_ You _ _saved the bloody world! Do not let them tell you any different!  Don’t let their hurt feelings lessen what you have done!  You can do this!  I have seen you do it.  Be the Inquisitor.  In your report, you said you were advised not to show you full authority.  I happen to disagree.  You are a strong, beautiful, fierce, and intelligent woman.  The Inquisition follows you because of who you are and the things you have shown you are capable of.  You have our full support to address these naysayers the way you see fit.  Josephine is preparing a point by point rebuttal to their concerns as we speak.  She urges you to stay calm, but to use the authority you know you have.  I’m thinking of the woman in the cells in Kirkwall trying to free her Commander.  The woman who stood in front of Corypheus, not once, but twice, though death was all but certain.  We… I have faith in you._

_And on a more personal note.  If you need Dorian’s arms to hold you together tonight… I will not be angry.  I only regret that they aren’t mine.  As I write this, he is reading my letter to him.  Sky is definitely getting a work out tonight. I’m having Jim hunt for crickets.  It’s quite amusing.  And if you feel the need to cut your hair, do so.  I miss the way your hair curls when it’s shorter._

_I… you’ve made me a better man.  I hope you know that.  You know how I feel about letters, yet here I am filling the page without a moment’s hesitation.  I leave the day after tomorrow for South Reach, since it takes me longer to get there than you due to distance and the spring storms in the Hinterlands.  Stay strong, my love.  I will see you soon._

_I love you and long for you to be in my arms again._

_Stay safe._

_Your loving fiancé_

_***_

Shea folds the letter and sets it on the couch next to her.  Her nerves are still frayed, but his words provide her with some comfort.  She runs shaky fingers through her hair.  _Just be the Inquisitor and everything will be ok._   She rubs her tired eyes and sighs. 

Dorian clears his throat and she looks up at him.  He holds out his hand.  She takes it and he pulls her off the couch.  “This is from Cullen.” He runs her fingers down the scar on her face.  She closes her eyes and exhales in a huff.  His fingers come to rest on her jaw.  “This is from him too.”  He pulls her face to his and their lips meet.  The kiss is far too short for her.  He pulls away and she groans.  He chuckles.  “I’m only doing as instructed.”

Her eyes gaze into his.  “He really told you to do that?”

“You can read the letter if you like.”

She shakes her head.  “I believe you.  I just seems a bit… odd.”

“What can I say?  He knows you, my dear.  You are already in a better mood.”  She sighs and sits back on the couch.  She pulls her hair forward over her shoulder.  She plays with the ends of it.  “Need a dagger?”

She chuckles.  “No.  I’m just trying to think of how to make myself look more like the Inquisitor without my old armor or uniform.”

He sits next to her.  “I know that you think you have to look the part in order to act the part.  I understand.  Believe me.  But darling, you are the Inquisitor.  No one else can claim that.”

“You remember our dealings with the Avvar right?”

“Fair enough.  But no one _else_ can claim that title.”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“No matter what you wear or how short your hair is, you are already the Inquisitor.  But you are more than that now.  Though you don’t want to admit it, you are a noble.  And though it’s only temporary, you are the Right Hand of the Divine.  I say embrace it all.  Let them see it.  So, if you want to look the part, I might be able to help.”

“How so?”

“Well, when you made your debut, your hair was short and you either wore your armor or your uniform.  You don’t have these thing now, but you have some… suitable alternatives.”

“The problem with embracing all my roles is that I’ll be showing off my power.”

“Yes and no.  This is where we start to break you out of that family motto.  Your appearance might show your might, but your actions and words will show that you are more than your titles.  You can think for yourself and have the best interest of the people at heart.”

She nods.  “That almost makes sense.”

“You are a girl to them.  A girl out of her element.  A Marcher with no idea how the world really works.  Prove them wrong.”

She smirks.  “You sound a bit like, Cullen.”

He shrugs.  “He gave me some lines of dialogue, but most of that was my own opinion.”

“Then I leave it to your capable hands, Master Pavus.”  He winks at her and turns away.  “Wait.  Why are winking at me?”

“Come along dear.  I have more instructions to follow.”  He heads towards the washroom.

“More?”   She pulls herself off the couch to follow him.  “What exactly does he want you to do to me?”

He chuckles.  “To calm your nerves.”  He waves his hand over the wooden tub and it fills with water.  “First thing’s first.  Time to wash all that Ferelden dirt off of you.  Then I’ll cut your hair.  Then we’ll go to bed.  We must have our beauty sleep.  Bags will not help the aesthetic we want to craft.”

She unlaces the sides of her dress and pulls it over her head.  She drops it in the floor and then points him.  “No funny business.”

He laughs.  “My dear.  I’d only touch you in that way if a certain former templar were present.  Then I’d know for sure that I wouldn’t lose my fingers.”

***

When the large doors open to the Landsmeet chamber the next morning, Shea sees that a few things are different.  The first being that it is empty of nobles.  Second, there is a chair sitting between the two large thrones at the end of the room.  The third and final difference is that the Queen is seated beside her King in their thrones.  Shea centers herself before walking forward.  It doesn’t take Alistair more than a few seconds to see the difference in her attitude.  She looks noble and strong.  Professional.  Official.  Her hair is pulled back at her temples.  Her auburn curls brush her collarbone.  She wears the same silver and blue lace dress she wore to Cullen’s ceremony in Ostwick.  Yet his eyes hone in on her hands.  Her engagement ring glitters on her left hand.  Her signet ring sits on the ring finger of her right hand while the Right Hand of the Divine ring sits next to it on her middle finger.

She stops at the base of the stairs and dips her head.  “Your majesties.”

Danielle covers her mouth to hide her smirk.  This was a bold move and everyone knew it.  In this moment, she is their equal.  Alistair stands and Danielle follows suit.  They descend the stairs and come to stand before her.  They dip their heads to her.  Alistair holds out his hand and Shea places her right hand in it.  “If have wondered what this looks like up close.  How should the court address you since you appear to be wearing all of your hats today?”

His voice is not unkind, but she can hear the uneasy edge to it.  “Traditionally speaking, the Right Hand of the Divine is addressed as whatever their title is.  For Cassandra, it was Seeker Pentaghast.  Which means for me, you would continue to refer to me as Inquisitor Trevelyan.”

“Are you sure you want to go about it this way?  They are already angry.”

“With all due respect your highness, I refuse to be ashamed of who and what I am.  You heard my introduction yesterday.  I have earned every title and honorific I possess.  As have you and your Queen.  And yet your nobles don’t show you the respect you have rightfully earned.  I think it’s time that changed, don’t you?”

Danielle smiles at her.  Shea sees her crown for the first time.  The gold and jewels casting colored light into her blonde locks.  “You see there, my love.  This is why we’re friends.”

He shakes his head and chuckles.  “You two are trouble.  This process is going to take a while.  Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Danielle hooks her arm and leads her up the stairs.  “I’m not sure how thing are done in Ostwick or Skyhold, but in Ferelden when an issue needs to be discussed, we hold court.  The monarchs listen to the case and judge accordingly.”

“So, I’m on trial?”

Alistair nods.  “Technically, yes.  But no matter the outcome here, you will not be arrested and anything decided will be thoroughly discussed after you’ve left to determine our actions.”

“As you can plainly see, no one is in here.  That is because every single noble here would like to ask you questions.  This will unfortunately take a few days.  But when it’s over you’ll be free to go.”

She purses her lips.  “Why do I get the feeling there is something you have questions about?”

They look at each other and then back at her.  Alistair takes a deep breath before stating, “Yes.  We do.  We are not first in line though.”

“You are the rulers of Ferelden.  You can make yourself first in line.”

Danielle shakes her head.  “When asking questions, our words must be witnessed.  I’m sure you understand.”

She stifles a sigh of frustration.  “As you wish.  When does this start?”

“Whenever you are ready.”

“Then I’d like to request my second to be present.”

Alistair’s brows knit together.  “Your second?  We knew he was a companion, but your second?”

“For lack of a better term, yes.  In a situation think this, I feel it is more than appropriate to have him present.”

“I don’t see why not.  But calling him your second says something more than just being comforted by his presence.”

She nods.  “Oh, I’m well aware of that.”

He nods.  “Then let’s get started.”  Shea follows them up the steps and sits in the simple padded chair between the thrones.

***

Shea sits there every day for four days solid answering every concern the nobles of Ferelden have.  Some of them just wanted to get their chance to meet her and thank her in person.  The more reasonable nobles with concerns were first.  They were willing to listen to her explain her reasons behind certain actions.  But things got progressively worse and simultaneously more personal as the days passed.  She outright refused to even entertain the notion that someone else could be the father of her child and eventually refused to answer any and all questions about her personal life as that was no one’s business but her own.  It deeply bothered her that people thought that her private life was anyone’s business.  She also stopped responding to questions about Ostwick.  What business did Ferelden have for needing no know the inner workings of a city-state in another country?

On her sixth day in Denerim and her fifth day on trial, she was at her wits end.  She looks over at Danielle as they wait for the proceedings to start.  The room is packed with people.  “How many more questions can they possibly have?  I think I’ve relived every moment since the conclave in as much detail as I can remember.”

“True, but you have been keeping a great many things quiet.  Like your numbers.”

“I am don’t keep track of our numbers.  If the Commander were here, he could answer that question.”

“And did you ask him?”

“He’s travelling right now and is hard to reach.  You know we have a fully trained army that marched full force on the Arbor Wilds and Adamant.  Save for those stationed elsewhere.”

“That’s the concern, I think.  But you haven’t been very forth coming.”

“About things that are no one’s concern but my own and those that have no bearing on Ferelden.  Ostwick is in the Free Marches, not here.”

“And yet you have Inquisition forces stationed there.”

“As a precaution.  I have explained that Teyrn Trevelyan requested aid.”

“And you had men stationed at the Winter Palace.”

“Again.  As a precaution.  One that turned out to be warranted.”

“If we were to request men, would you give them?”

“If they were actually needed, yes.”

Alistair clears his throat.  “Let’s get started.”

A noble steps forward.  “Inquisitor.  You imprisoned and then exiled the mayor of Crestwood.  His crimes were against Ferelden people.  Why did you take it upon yourself to judge him?”

“I believe I answered this the other day.  His actions during the Blight put the people in greater danger when the rifts formed under the lake that he created.  Not only did he kill innocent people during the Blight, but the undead that rose to plague the village, killed innocents then too.  He may have had good intentions, but the people of Crestwood deserved justice.  So, I sent him here to be imprisoned here.  To let the people of Ferelden decide once and for all what his punishment should be.  It was either that or exile, which would have been kinder in the long run.”

The noble nods and another one takes their place.  “The red templars are your problem so why haven’t you cleared out Therinfal Redoubt?”

“I was not aware there were still red templars there.  I’ll have someone take care of it.”

“And then claim the fortress for yourself?  Another stronghold within Ferelden borders?”

“I would only hold it until it can be determined what would be done about the _templar_ fortress.  It still belongs to them after all.  And since the few remaining templars have rejoined the Chantry, it will be up to Divine Victoria to decide what to do with it.”

“You’re her Right Hand.  What’s to keep you from claiming it for yourself?”

“I don’t want it.  And any actions I take as the Right Hand are at the behest of Divine Victoria.”

“Like setting your fiancé free even though he committed war crimes in Kirkwall?”

She rolls her eyes.  “The accusations against the Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall were unfounded and they was no evidence that he committed any crimes.  The Divine ordered an official decree exonerating him, which went ignored.  I did as she commanded and took the Chantry of Kirkwall back from Starkhaven who had taken it upon themselves to take over.”

“How do we know that’s true?”

“I have no need to lie.  However, if you wish to question me on this, then you will need to take your accusations to Divine Victoria.”

The noble grumbles and turns away.  Arl Teagan steps up.  She takes a deep breath.  This was her biggest opponent and if she could calmly and thoroughly answer his questions, then things might improve.

“Inquisitor.  Do you have plans to invade Ferelden?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why have your mages returned to Kinloch Hold?”

“They are no longer quote my mages.  They are free to do as they wish.  The College of Enchanters is a completely separate order.”

“And Caer Bronach?  Why are your men still there?”

“To keep the bandits out.  They deal with bandits regularly and the people of Crestwood would be plagued by them if the keep was left unattended.  By all means, take it back.  But send men to replace mine, or those poor people will have more problems to deal with.”

“And your camps throughout Ferelden?  What of those?”

“As you know, Arl Teagan, they are rifts scattered all over Thedas.  These camps are set in place at aid and protect people who cannot do so themselves.  We are working on devices to put in place that will strengthen the Veil in these areas to prevent rifts from opening again.  The progress is slow since our resident expert has stepped down.”

“You mean he left?”

“Yes.  He left.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew.”

He nods and smugly walks away.  She massages her marked palm.  All this stress was giving her a headache and she couldn’t reach up to relieve it without showing weakness, so this would have to do.  Alistair stands up and addresses her.  “A few final questions, Inquisitor.”  She nods and he paces with his hands behind his back.  “People say that you saved the Wardens of Orlais from themselves.  And thanks to your efforts, Corypheus lost all control he had over them.”

“Technically speaking, he still had power over some of the Warden mages and the others were still open to corruption.  So, though they fought with the Inquisition for a time, they were kept away from Venatori or other agents of Corypheus.”

“What did they do exactly?”

“They fought demons mostly.  And once Corypheus was defeated, they returned to Weisshaupt.  I don’t know any more than that as Grey Warden business is none of mine.”

“So, those who joined of their own free will or due to extraordinary circumstances are free to leave?”

“Yes.  That includes the men who still fight under the Inquisition’s banner.  Many of them don’t have anywhere else to go or their families are with them in Skyhold.”

“You have villagers there?”

“A great many, yes.  Pilgrims and survivors from Haven mostly.”

“Do you still claim to be sent by Andraste?”

“No.  We learned the truth at Adamant.  Yet people still insist on calling me the Herald.”

“You use it as one of your titles.”

“Someone once told me that just because I wasn’t literally sent by Andraste or the Maker, doesn’t mean that I wasn’t.  Quote, ‘The Maker works both in the moment and in how it is remembered.’  Mother Giselle said that to me.”

“If your work is done, then why haven’t you disbanded?”

She looks over at him.  _He can’t be serious._   “I don’t think our work is done, your highness.  Rifts are still popping up and some are too far to reach at this point in time.  As the only one capable of closing them, it is still my job to do so.”

“And you need a large force to do that?”

She sighs.  _This is going in circles._   “As I said, these men and women have elected to stay on.  Now, they are just used to secure the areas around rifts to make sure no one gets hurt.  Mostly they just hang around Skyhold and continue training.  Maintaining.”

“Training?  For what exactly?”

“Fighting demons.  Any remaining red templars.  The Venatori, who are still a threat even without the Elder One.”

“In looking at the connections your organization has built, it seems to me that you have a hand in almost every part of the world.  Your spymaster is Divine.  Your Seneschal is Lady Seeker and rumored to be in marriage talks with your brother.  The Montilyets in Antiva are now able to trade with Orlais again.  Master Pavus here is a Tevinter Magister.”

“He’s not a Magister.”

“The College of Enchanters owe you.  The Grey Wardens owe you.  It is said that the Empress of Orlais owes you her throne and that you may as well have her wrapped around your little finger.”

“What are you implying?”

“What are your plans with Ferelden?”

Shea looks over at Danielle.  The Queen looks dumbfounded.  She makes eye contact with Shea for a moment and then looks away.  “I have no plans for Ferelden.”

“You have made friends with us and have asked personal favors when you hardly know either of us.  Why is that?”

The air gets knocked out of her.  “I wasn’t asking for me.  You know this.”

Danielle stands up and moves to Alistair.  She whispers in his ear and he nods.  “So, these favors were selfless acts?”

“To be completely honest, no.   They were… personal favors.  I was reaching out as myself not as the Inquisitor.  Though I imagine you responded and went to those great lengths to help me with this personal matter because of my position.  But ultimately, these favors were to assist a… mutual friend.”

“So, you put your own livelihood and reputation on the line to help someone with a matter beyond your control?”

“I’ve been doing things that put my very life at risk for the sake of others.  So, yes.”

He smirks.  “So everything you’ve done with regards to the Inquisition was for the greater good and not for yourself?”

It clicks in her head.  It was a long and winding path, but he was trying to get this out of her.  This is what he wanted people to see.  “Since the day the Breach formed in the sky, I have paid no mind to my own wants or wellbeing.  People needed help and I was in a position to provide it.  I still am.  I mean look at me.  I’m very pregnant, with my first child, and have been travelling against the clock to close as many rifts as I can before I can travel no longer.  Time for me is running out and I can’t just sit by and let people suffer demons when there is still something I can do.”

Danielle grins.  “And if I might offer a little comparison to the court.  Your actions, though more impactful, are not much different from ours during the Blight.  We did everything we could to recruit allies and to keep Ferelden from tearing itself apart, even when we ourselves were accused of betraying Cailan at Ostagar.  We all know the truth in those events now, but it would seem you are in a similar boat.”

“That seems like an apt comparison.”

Someone shouts, “So it not the Inquisitor that’s the problem!”

Another voice responds, “Right!  The Inquisition is the problem!”

She rolls her eyes.  “The Inquisition isn’t a problem.  For the almost year and a half, the Inquisition has struggled to make the world a calmer and safer place.  And this was even before I became Inquisitor.”

Her voice falls on deaf ears as the nobles loudly grumble and murmur.  She looks between the monarchs.  Alistair just shrugs.  Danielle shakes her head.  “You tried.”

“What?  That’s it?”

“It seems they’ve made up their minds.”

She looks around and mumbles under her breath, “And I thought Orlais was a mess.”

“You can keep trying, but it’s hard to say what action they’ll want to take.”

She stands up abruptly and turns to face them.  “You don’t rule via collective.  You are royalty.  A King and Queen.  The highest authority and one that they chose.  I’m not totally versed on how the Ferelden government works, but you rule an entire country.  They only rule parcels of land.”

Alistair crosses his arms over his chest.  “Yes, but money is power.”

“How did they act before the Civil War?  Did they do this to Cailan or Maric?”

“No, but they were…  I’m a…”

“You’re a King regardless of your parentage.  They should treat you as such.”

Danielle rubs his back.  “I never wanted…”

“That doesn’t matter now.  You are.  And I know you know how to act like one.  I saw that in Redcliffe as well as the Fade.”

“Inquisitor.  I know that you have honorable intentions, but I must confess that I agree with some of the things _my_ people have said.”

Shea looks at each of them.  They have the same expression.  “Are you saying that you both think we have out lived our purpose?”

They both nod and Danielle elaborates.  “Rifts are one thing, but you control an army and a network of spies that would make anyone shiver.  Maybe you should disband the Inquisition and continue working on rifts as an individual.”

Shea scoffs and her mouth hangs open slightly.  Unable to think of anything to say, she turns on her heel and walks down the stairs.  She doesn’t look back to see the look on their faces.  The crowd hums its disapproval as she goes without being dismissed or turning to pay her respects to the shocked rulers standing in front of their thrones.  She has purpose in her steps as she exits the room.  Dorian falls in beside her as she makes her dramatic exit.  She looks over at him.  “Find someone to get our things.  We’re leaving.”

He chuckles.  “Not waiting until morning then?”

“No point staying when we’re clearly not waited.  I’ll secure the carriage and you find a way to get our stuff.”

“On it.”

She walks out into the courtyard and sees the man who walked her in.  “Excuse me.”

He bows.  “Inquisitor.  Aren’t the proceedings still going on?”

“I need to secure a carriage.”

“Your ambassador has already seen to that.  Would you… like to have it brought around?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

He scurries off and she is left standing on the steps.  She paces the steps and begins to seethe.  _They call themselves my friend.  After everything I’ve done.  After everything the Inquisition has done._ She hears laughter drift through the open doors behind her.  She growls and clinches her fist.  _And now they are laughing.  How is this funny?_ Dorian comes up next to her and holds out her staff.  She takes it from him.

“Our things will be along in a moment.”

“The carriage is being brought around.  You heard laughter, right?”

He nods.  “Drifting out of the Landsmeet chamber.  I hear the King has a sense of humor.”

“Some sense of humor.  I think I just burned a bridge.”

“But what a glorious way to do it.”  A carriage pulls up draped in Inquisition banners.  The man in the driver’s seat is in Inquisition armor.  He climbs down and salutes them.  She didn’t know how Josie did it, but she’s grateful.  He opens the door and they climb in.  “Is the plan the same?”

“Yep.”

“Go to South Reach?  Close the rift there?  Then send me back to Skyhold?”

“Correct.”  After a few moments, the door opens again.  Morrigan and Kieran step in.  “Morrigan.  What are you doing here?”

“I was in that meeting.”  She rolls her eyes.  “I fully support you and the Inquisition.  I always have.  This is no place for us.  I was hoping we could hitch a ride.”

“Certainly.  Our _friends_ are always welcome.”

Kieran sits next to Dorian and they instantly start talking about magic.  “Where are you headed?”

“South Reach.  And then Dorian is continuing on back to Skyhold.”

“South Reach?  What’s in South Reach?”

“A rift.  And Cullen’s family.”

She chuckles.  “Meeting the soon-to-be in-laws then?”

Shea nods.  “Where are you headed?”

“I could help you seal this rift.  I don’t currently know where we will be going.  Possibly back to Orlais.  I don’t know.  But we’ll keep Dorian company on his way back to Skyhold so that he doesn’t have to travel alone.”

“Thank you.  I was worried about that.  This has turned into one big mess.”

“It could always be worse.  The good news is I think I can solve your dreaming problem and we have a few days to do so.”

Shea smiles.  “Is this Well of Sorrows stuff?”

The witch smiles, but doesn’t answer.  Shea slumps against the seat as the carriage begins to move.  She was going to have one hell of time trying to explain all this to her advisors.  She also hoping that her grand exit wouldn’t bite her in the ass later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 28, 2018


	17. Love Remains The Same

Despite the lingering stress from her time in Denerim, Shea is actually having a pleasant time traveling with a carriage full of mages.  She wonders what the “rulers” of Ferelden think of the sudden disappearance of Morrigan and Kieran.  She feels a bit wistful that she doesn’t care.  She has considered Danielle a friend since they met in the Fade and now it seems like that chapter has closed.  It is always said that you should not meet your idols and now she knows why.  She thought they had a backbone, especially after Alistair’s show of force in Redcliffe.  Now, she feels a new enemy emerging.  She doesn’t want to fight Ferelden.  It would more than likely upset Cullen to have to defend or attack people from his homeland.  She wouldn’t make the first move if it came to blows though.  She would give over every Ferelden foothold the Inquisition had without a fight.  But if they marched on Skyhold, she would defend her people.

She looks around the sleeping carriage.  Morrigan’s head is resting on the carriage wall with her son’s head in her lap.  This mirrors on her side of the carriage as Dorian has laid claim to her lap as a pillow.  Though every so often he’ll grumble when he gets kicked in the head by the restless child growing inside her.  She is ever diligent in her time tracking.  She would be separating from them soon as South Reach isn’t far away. Her mind drifts to Cullen, riding all alone on his white horse, braving the elements while she is protected by wood and metal.

The closer they get the more anxious she becomes at meeting his family.  He hasn’t seen them since he was 13 and she doesn’t have the best luck with family.  If they are anything like him though, she feels like she will like them.  Whether they like her or not is her main concern.  What if they feel she isn’t right for him?  The soft kick from inside reminds her that it’s a little late for that now.  Looking down at Dorian’s dark hair as he sleeps makes her wish she could find sleep.  She is tried but her mind is running in circles and won’t allow her even a moment’s rest.

The carriage starts to make her feel caged.  She shifts Dorian’s head to rest on the seat and she slowly stands.  She knocks softly on the top of the carriage and it slows to a stop.  She opens the door and steps out into the rainy night.  “Is something that matter, Inquisitor?”

She looks up at the driver.  “No.  I just needed some fresh air.”  He climbs out of his seat.  He is soaked to the bone.  She eyes the seat as he stretches.  She remembers Cullen’s lessons back in the Free Marches.  “How different is driving a carriage from driving a wagon?”

He shrugs.  “Probably not much of one.”

“Do you have something dry to change into?”

“Yes, but why do you ask?”

She wonders how hard it would be to climb up to the seat in her state.  “Well… I need fresh air and you need to get out of this rain.  I could relieve you for a time.”

“I couldn’t let you do that, your Worship.”

She smiles at him.  “What’s your name?”

“Jenkins.”

“Jenkins.  You haven’t slept in days.  I can’t have you falling asleep at the reigns now can I?”

He smiles and nods.  “Thank you, Inquisitor.  Tales of your kindness have not been exaggerated.  I’ll change quickly as to not drip water inside.”  He scurries to the back of the carriage and she starts to climb up.  It is tricky with her belly and the wet steps, but she manages to get up there and settles in.  He waves up to her as he ducks into the carriage.  The doors shuts firmly and she takes up the reigns.  The horses look tired, which makes sense since they haven’t stopped moving at a steady pace for a few days.  She decides to keep an eye out for a decent spot to camp as they go along the road.  She cracks the reigns as if she has been doing this her whole life.  The horses move forward and the carriage glides along the road.

Though she has come to hate rain, she finds she is enjoying this experience.  She is in control of two great beasts and the safety of those inside.  She is in complete control of their fates.  She smiles as she drives the horse just a little faster.  It’s peaceful up there in that seat and time passes quickly.

As the sun rises, Shea spots a nice area to set up camp.  She pulls on the reigns to slow the horse.  She doesn’t know if a carriage is suited for going off the road, so she just pulls it to a stop.  She carefully climbs down to the ground.  As her foot lands, the door opens.  Dorian rubs his eyes steps out.  “You could have told me you were stepping out.”

She smirks.  “Did you wake up snuggled next to Jenkins?”

“Is that his name?”

“I found a place to set up camp.  The horses could use the rest.”

“How are we on time?”

“We’re still ahead of schedule.  At this rate, we’ll get there before Cullen.”

He steps closer to her and touches her face.  “When is the last time you slept?”

She shrugs.  He rolls his eyes and shoves her forward.  “Lead the way then.”

Morrigan steps out the carriage.  “Why have we stopped?”

Shea yawns covering her mouth.  “The horses need to rest.  And so do I.”

Dorian shakes his head.  “You look like a drowned rat.”

Morrigan snaps her fingers and Shea’s clothes dry out.  “Now you only look like a partially drowned rat.”

Kieran steps out and looks around.  “This doesn’t look like a village.”

Shea smiles at him.  “We’ve stopped to rest the horses.”

He looks over at his mother as the adults start unpacking the camping supplies.  “Do you think Father has noticed we’ve left?”

Morrigan looks over at him and sets down the bedroll in her hands.  She places a hand on each of his shoulders.  “I’m sure he has.”

He looks down at the ground.  “Do you think he misses… us?”

“I’m sure he misses you, little man.  Now, be a good lad and help us set up camp.”

The exchange pulls at Shea’s heart strings.  Will my child ask similar questions of me or Cullen?  Maker he looks so sad.  Shea pats him on the back and he looks up at her.  “You can borrow Sky if you’d like to send him a message.”

“Really?”

“If it’s alright with your mother, of course.”  Morrigan nods.  Shea leads them to the spot hidden by trees.  Jenkins emerges from the carriage and climbs into the driver’s seat.  He turns the carriage off the road and follows them.  They get the tents and bedrolls set up.  Shea builds the campfire as is her custom and lights it with her magic.  She sits down next to the fire and reaches into her bag for the only paper she uses now.  She is grateful Danielle had taught her how to make it before she stormed out.

She doesn’t know what to write exactly.  She had already sent Josie and Cullen separate letters detailing the events in Denerim.  Kieran plops down next to her.  “Mother says you haven’t eaten.”

“No, I don’t suppose I have.”

“I caught some fennecs while we were setting up.  Father showed me how.”

“Did he show you how to cook them?”

“No.  He said he’s a horrible cook.”

She smiles and sets the paper aside.  She pulls a dagger from her bag.  “Go find two long sticks.  I’ve become quite proficient at cooking on the road.”

He hops up and hurries off into the trees.  Morrigan sits beside her.  “You should be sleeping.”

“I should also eat something more substantial then pieces of dried meat and fruit too.”

“I wouldn’t call a few fennecs substantial.”

“True enough.  But he seems pleased to be learning and helping, so why disappoint him?  He’s having a hard enough time.”

“We’ve noticed that have you?”  The witch sighs, “I almost regret letting him spend so much time with that fool.  But it was a nice change for him to be focused on… normal things.  With the Old God soul gone he has been quite depressed and lonely.  If spending time with Alistair of all people makes him happy, then who am I to end that prematurely?  It was kind of you to offer Sky to his services despite the differences you and Alistair have developed.”

“Danielle too.”

“Yes, I find it strange that she would even suggest you give up the Inquisition.  It also surprised me how much she let the nobles walk all over Alistair.”

“Think there’s something going on we should be worried about?”

The witch shakes her head, “No.  The false calling the Wardens heard must have reached them.  I hear it’s a very unnerving to suddenly hear death coming for you when you aren’t expecting it for a few more decades.”

“Decades?!”

She nods, “It’s why she is so desperate to remove the taint or slow the Calling.  Wardens don’t live much longer than 30 years after their Joining.  As young as they are, 11 or 12 years have come and gone.  And he will no doubt go before her since he’s been a Warden longer.”

Shea shakes her head.  “I would not like to be in their shoes.  I’ve left that pain.”

“So, I hear.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The Well whispers to me often, as you are aware.  They spoke of ancient magic long sense forgotten had been activated in the world.  Powerful and dark.”

“Dark?  I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I said many times that magic is not inherently evil.  An Old God’s soul.  The Well.  The Foci that made you a mage and opened the Breach.  By themselves, they aren’t bad.  It is all in how they are used.  In the time before the fall, the magic inside you was used for dark purposes.  To lengthen an already long life.  Immortal until the quickening.  But by then the Creators were already gone from the world.  It is not easy to kill something with that much power.”

“Yet someone managed to kill Mythal.”

“And that magic is what found its way to my mother.  Part magic, part soul.”

“Wait.  Are you saying I have part of the soul of an elven god living in me?”

“Yes, but only a tiny part.  Flemeth became Mythal because it was her whole soul not just a fraction of it.  I shudder to think what would have happened if there was more of it.”

“I’d have become Fen’Heral.”  Morrigan covers her eyes and presses into them.  “Are you alright?”

“The voices are shouting.  Give me a moment.”

Shea sees Kieran running back and she taps Morrigan.  She opens her eyes and sees her son.  She pushes off the ground and stalks away.  He pauses to watch her go.  “Are the voices screaming at her again?”

She pats the spot next to her.  “It appears so.”  He plops down next to her.  “Alright.  I’ll show you how to prepare the first one.  Then you can try.”  He nods and hands her a stick and one of the foxes.  She beings her instruction.  “First, you want to sharpen one end of the stick…”

***

Shea opens her eyes after she has fallen asleep to the same large grassy field and bubbling river that she has for months.  Her hand flutters over her stomach.  Her pregnant belly is present and according to Morrigan that means the baby is also asleep and dreaming.  Though its dream is much different from hers.  She sits on the ground and closes her eyes.  She focuses on her breathing.  She hasn’t ever tried this in this dream, because she never has enough warning before the voice starts calling and she is lost to the path the dream takes her.

Morrigan’s instructions take hold _.  Picture a place in the Fade.  An actual Fade location that I have been.  Somewhere that I have felt a strong connection, but not somewhere dangerous.  The Fade field outside Skyhold.  Where I met his desire demon.  Where I met Danielle and Alistair and that pink owl spirit._  She feels the ground shift below her.  _Keep them closed, Shea.  Wait for it to calm down.  Keep focusing. The vine covered walls of Skyhold in the distance_.  The ground rumbles again and she squeezes her eyes closed.  _The place where I opened a rift for pulling the desire demon and her friends into the Waking World.  Where I watched Cullen crawl out of a bush being pet by wisps._

A force knocks her on her back and a hand wraps around her throat.  “Gar…”  She lashes out with her magic, but doesn’t open her eyes.  The hand disappears from her neck and she regains her focus. _Field below Skyhold.  The usual meeting place._   The ground shifts and she falls.  She smacks into the ground and the air rushes from her lungs.  She groans and sits up.  Her eyes open and her smiles despite the pain in her back.

“Holy shit!  I did it!”  She pushes off the ground and looks around.  It looks exactly the same as it did the last time she was here.  She sees their discarded Fade weapons on the ground.  She remembers the promise to return them and gathers them up.  A bag appears in her hand and she places them in the bag.  The armored spirit appears near her.  She smiles.  “Sorry I’m late.  I was having a hard time getting here.”  She holds out the bag.  The spirit salutes her and takes the bag.  As it walks away, it vanishes.

She can’t suppress the joy she feels.  She laughs loudly and spins around.  She hears a chuckle from behind her and spins towards it.  Danielle is sitting on a rock.  “So, you figured it out.”

Shea narrows her eyes at her.  “No thanks to you.”

“You have to understand.  I had every intention of helping you Dream, but things got… out of hand.”

Shea crosses her arms over her chest.  “Out of hand?  You turned on me.”

“We didn’t turn on you.  But we… listen as a Grey Warden and Warden Commander of Ferelden, I completely understand your position.  The world needs you.  However, we Grey Wardens know our roll.  We are only useful during a Blight and when there isn’t one, we step aside and let the rulers of the world handle things.  When we don’t do that, like the Wardens long ago, we end up being exiled or worse.”

“Like those Wardens at Adamant.”

“Right.  So, we feel that the Inquisition should fall back.  Send your soldiers home.  If need of you arises, you reform.  You only need a handful of people to help you close rifts.”

“So, we should just abandon the people we are helping to rebuild?  Let them fend for themselves while they are still recovering?”

“It can’t be as bad as all that.”

Shea shakes her head.  “Have you, your husband, or any of those other nobles actually gone to these places?  The people in the Hinterlands alone still rely on the aid we provide.  Hell, even Redcliffe village needs our help.  Arl Teagan was more concerned with getting his blessed castle back than helping his people.  I didn’t want to bring this up during my trial, but my reports say that he spends more time in the Free Marches than in Redcliffe.  They may as well be governing themselves.”

“Teagan is a good man.  I’ve known him a very long time.  But if your accusation is true, we’ll need to have a word with him.”

Shea scoffs.  “You have been off doing Maker knows what, leaving Alistair to rule alone with a man he can’t stand up to because of his relation to him.  You have no idea what’s going on in your own country.  Neither of you do.”

“Is that the real reason you won’t pull your people from Ferelden?”

“I won’t pull them because the common people of Ferelden need our help.  People wrote to us requesting aid during the Mage/Templar war, not their rulers.  What does that say?”

Danielle stands up and walks towards her.  “It says that the world owes you a debt it can never repay.  That does not however give you the right to rule a land that is not yours.”

Shea throws her hands into the air.  “I’m not ruling anything!  I’ve got Skyhold.  That’s it.  I have no land of my own.  All our settlements are made of canvas and wood.  Which makes them temporary.  Maybe you should stop worrying about me and start worrying about helping your people recover.  You did that during the Blight and after, but what about now?  What have either of you done to help them now?  Crestwood is barely holding on.  Trade is slowly resuming, but only because we are helping keep them safe.  Redcliffe would be completely lost had we not run the Venatori from it.  Yet they are still struggling to get things back to normal, while Arl Teagan hangs out in Denerim.”

“Where were these arguments before?”

“I’m sorry.  It was hard the think while I was pulling the knife out of my back.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“Is it?  You both came to my room expressing your support.  You both assured me that you would express that to the Landsmeet.  But you didn’t.  You did the opposite, in fact.”

“We support you, just not the Inquisition.”

“I am a founding member of the Inquisition.  So is the Divine and my fiancé.  Your ex, I might add.  And you threw helping him back at me because you didn’t finish saving him back at Kinloch.  I had to get your help to clean up your unfinished business.  Yet it was thrown back in my face.  Friends don’t do that.  Friends also don’t just sit there while their friend is being personally attack by their nobles.”

“So, that’s why you’re angry with me?”

Shea laughs.  “Oh Maker!  Have you not been listening to me?  You claimed to be my friend and you turned on me in the most public of ways.  Using information I trusted you with against me.  I’m not angry.  I’m offended.  I feel betrayed.  This conversation is over.  But I want to say one more thing.  I am the Inquisitor.  I lead the organization that you don’t support.  Not supporting it is not supporting me by default.  Criticizing me for doing your job with your people is not only ridiculous, it’s hypocritical.”

“How am I a hypocrite?”

“You claim to want to help people, but when someone steps in to do just that, you want them to leave those people who need help alone because the person helping isn’t Ferelden.  Would you have turned Orlesian Grey Wardens away during the Blight?  If Cullen was the Inquisitor, who you be driving him from your lands?  Or would you still dislike him because he used to be a templar?”

“The Inquisition is an independent army.”

“Which is not unheard of.  Case and point.  Teyrn Loghain.”

“Yes.  And we all saw how that turned out.”

“I am not him.  If you can’t see that, then I’m wasting my breath.”

Danielle sighs. “I know you aren’t him, but over staying your welcome…”

She growls and turns away from her.  “Take care of your people.  And I wouldn’t have to.”

She stalks off towards Skyhold.  So much for having a joyous first night as a Dreamer.  She stops when she hears footsteps behind her.  A glance over her shoulder tells her it’s Danielle.  She growls again and closes her eyes.  She thinks of Cullen.  He is the master at calming her down.  The ground shifts under her feet and she braces herself to land.  When her feet don’t touch the ground again, she opens her eyes.

She feels like she is floating.  Hovering.  Suspended in darkness.  She looks around and sees a single cone of light.  He stumbles into it looking much younger than he is.  His scar is not on his face.  He is wearing templar armor.  He is winded and he looks panicked.  She looks below her.  She steps forward and her foot meets resistance.  She takes a few steps and the feeling of suspension fades.  She walks slowly towards him.  His voice pleads, “Leave me.  Please just leave me.”

She stops.  He is cowering before something, maybe someone.  Did I just walk into his nightmare?

“I don’t want it.  This isn’t my life anymore.”

She doesn’t know if it’s safe to interfere.  She never in a million years imagined that being a Dreamer allowed you to just let yourself into someone’s mind when they weren’t close to you.  She circles him in the darkness trying to see who he is talking to.  A gloved hand enters the light.  It holds a glowing bottle of lyrium towards him.  He covers his ears.  He can hear it.

“No. No. No.  I won’t take it.”

She wishes she could hear whatever this person is saying.  Another hand joins the first and pulls the cork from the bottle.  Cullen’s hand twitches up.  Shit. She rushes forward into the light and knocks the bottle into the darkness.  “He said no.”

The figure emerges from the light.  She gasps as she stares into the eyes of her uncle.  She backs up a few steps and feels Cullen’s hands grip the back of her thighs.  He isn’t real.  Just a ghost in Cullen’s mind.  A representation of his templar past.

“Are you real?  Are you really here?”

She reaches behind her and ruffles his hair.  “Yes, sweetheart.  I’m really here.”  Her Uncle Hayden snarls at her.  She looks around.  She can’t control his nightmare, but maybe she can drive it away.  She pulls a bright white ball of magic into her hand.  It then explodes and chases the darkness surrounding them away.  As the magic light passes through her uncle, he dissolves into little light particles.  The bottle of lyrium is on the ground not fair away.  The blue liquid pools on the ground next to the sideways bottle.  She feels his hands twitch on her legs.  “I’m here, my love.”

“How?  How?  Is my mind trying to torment me?”

She inhales sharply as his fingers dig into her flesh.  She knows he is trying to decide is he’s awake or asleep.  She places her hand on top of one of his.  That hand turns up to grab hers.  “You are dreaming.  But I am here in the Fade with you.”

His hands move away and she hears him scuttle backwards.  She quickly turns to face him.  He looks afraid of her.  “No.  You can’t be her.  My love isn’t a Dreamer.”

“I am now.  Morrigan showed me how.  What can I do to make you believe me?”  He looks so young.  Younger than her.  Not a scar in sight and his hair curls, neatly groomed on his head.  His golden eyes lean more to their darker side.  This is what he must have looked like when he was in Kinloch.  Lyrium singing in is his veins, after his torture, his fear of mages strong. Yet he had turned down lyrium from a man who used to be his hero.  She need to reach that Cullen, not this scared boy.  She takes a tentative step forward.

“Stop!  Don’t come any closer!  You… you must be a demon!”

“I am no demon.  Though I suppose that’s what a demon would say.  You know you are dreaming, right?”

“Of course I’m dreaming.”

“Then you can help me change this place.”

“What are you talking about?”

She closes her eyes.  “Think about something that only I would know.  A place preferably.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Solas said that only Dreamers can alter the dreams of others.  But they have to be physically connected to that person in the Waking world or have a deep emotional tie.  If I am really Shea, just thinking of that place will help me change your dream for you.”

He studies her for a long moment as she waits patiently.  She is pregnant like Shea, though bigger than when he last saw her.  Her hair is shorter.  Her feet are bare, which he finds strange.  They are wrapped like he’s seen elves wrap their legs.  Her scars are almost nonexistent.   He removes his glove, transfixed by the ghost of a scar on her face.  He reaches out and touches it.  She gasps and the world shifts.  He stumbles backwards and lands on his rear.  She knits her brows as she focuses on the feeling she just got from him.

The smell of grass and rain fill her nose.  The grass is soft between her toes.  She smiles and opens her eyes.  They are standing next to his favorite spot.  The lake.  She looks down at him on the ground.  He is himself again.  His clothes are simple.  Black pants, white cotton shirt that sticks to his skin as the rain falls, his feet are bare.  She feels the water drip down her face as it drips through her hair.  He stands up and rubs his eyes.  He looks around and rubs his neck.  “Is this real?”

“No.  This is the Fade.”

“It looks so real.”

“You’ve imagined it so many times in your mind, you know every detail.  That must be why it feels so real to you.”

“But you say that you’re real?”

“I am.  Are you still unsure?”  He nods.  “I’m not sure what I can do to prove my existence.”

“I dream of you so often.  But you’ve… never looked like this.”  She looks down at herself.  She is wearing leggings, Cullen’s cream colored shirt, and leg wraps around the lower part of her legs and feet.  His shirt is clinging to her skin from the rain and her bump stands out more because of it.  “It’s not the clothes so much as the scars.”

“Scars?”

“They one of your face… it’s ghostly.  Like it’s not fully there.”

She reaches up to the side of her face and runs her fingers down where her scar should be.  She doesn’t feel it at all.  “That’s so strange.  I don’t feel it.”

He steps towards her and hesitantly touches her face.  “Maybe because this is my dream?  Because to me, you are perfect.”

“Do you often dream of me without scars?”

“No.  When I dream of you, they are there.”

“Then maybe it’s me.  Maybe I’m altering them.”  She closes her eyes.  His fingers lovingly caress her face.  She tries to feel if she’s changing anything, but it doesn’t feel any different.  He pushes her wet hair behind her ear and gasps.  Her eyes snap open.  “What?  What is it?”  He takes her hand and places it on the side of her head.  “Holy shit!”  She rushes down the dock and stops at the edge of the lake.  She turns her head to the side as she studies her reflection.  She sees the ghostly scar on her face, but more importantly she sees what her hand felt.  Her ears are pointed.  Everything about her is the same expect the ears and her scar.  She pulls up the sleeve on her right arm and sure enough, the scar is ghostly.  She touches the skin and it is smooth.  His finger drags across it.  She looks up at him.

“It’s still there.”

“I’m going to have to ask Morrigan about this.”

He pulls her in for a hug.  She wraps her arms around him and inhales his scent.  Even in the Fade, he still smells so damn good.  He shifts his weight slightly and she looks up at him.  “Sun’s coming up.”

“Guess that means you’re going to wake up soon.”

He nods.  “When you wake up, I want you to write me.  If you are real, you will remember every detail of this dream.  Tell me something that happened to prove to me you are really here.”

“I can do that.”  He kisses the top of her head and the sun breaks through the clouds.  The world shifts and she finds herself suddenly in a part of the Fade she has never seen.  It looks remarkably like the little field they are camped in.  Nestled into the trees is an ancient looking door.  Much like the ones in elven ruins.  She steps towards it and touches it.  Something about the feeling she gets, tells her that this is her dream.  The one she escaped.  She backs away from it and then turns away.  She wonders around the field looking for things long forgotten in this place.

***

She gasps and sits up right in the tent.  Dorian’s hand is on her shoulder.  “Hey.  It’s time to get moving.”

She rubs her face.  “Were you having trouble waking me?”

“Yes, actually.  I was starting to get worried.  Then Morrigan said to whisper in your ear and here you are.”

She smiles.  “I did it, Dorian!  I walked the Fade and escaped that dream!”  She snaps her fingers and Sky flies in through her little rift.  She reaches for her bag and pulls out a piece of paper.  She pulls the quill and ink out and furiously starts writing.

“What are you doing?”

“I entered Cullen’s dream.  He told me to prove to him I was real.”

“You’ll still probably have to do that every time you go to him while he’s dreaming.”

She shrugs.  “If that’s how it has to be, then I can handle that.  It’s just nice to know that it’s possibly.”  She blows on the note to dry the ink and then puts it into the tube.  “Take that to Cullen.”  She scratches the bird’s head before she flies off.  Dorian helps Shea off the ground and they pack up to continue their journey.

***

_Cullen,_

_Holy shit!  I did it!  I finally did it!  I escaped that dream and walked the Fade!_

_I had an argument with Danielle, but that’s not important._

_I was in your dream last night.  I was real.  Quick question.  Why were you dreaming about my uncle giving you lyrium?  Is it calling to you again and you haven’t told me?_

_Also, I haven’t gotten a chance to ask Morrigan about the scar/ear thing.  I literally just woke up._

_Love you!  See you in a few days!_

_Shea_

 

He sighs and folds her note.  He assumed it was just an unusually vivid dream, but her asking about her uncle, lyrium, and her scar/ear ghosting are the only clues he needs to know that she had in fact become a Dreamer.  In all his years, he has never heard of a mage forcing themselves to become a Dreamer.  Normally, being a Dreamer meant the mage needed to be watched more closely as they were more prone to possession.  Yet after his talk with the thing who spoke through her, she is in no danger of possession unless she chose to do it.

It unnerves him just a little bit that she can just walk into his head while he’s sleeping.  There are somethings he dreams about that he would very much like to keep to himself.  He would not want to try to explain his subconscious to her, because he hardly understood it himself.

He spurs his horse and continues faster down the road.  He is not making good time at all.  If he could ride more instead of resting every night, then he might get there before her, but he hates to push his horse that hard.  Especially if he is going to give it to Dorian so he can ride it back to Skyhold.  Though he wonders how Morrigan and Kieran are going to travel once Shea parts ways with them.  He casts the thought aside.  It isn’t his problem.  He just wants to be with her.  Embrace her.  Kiss and fuck her fears away.  His mind drifts to the items in his pack.  His cheeks flush even though he is alone.  He doesn’t know if there will even be an opportunity to use them, but his cock twitches at the idea.

***

Shea stands outside the inn in South Reach.  She watches the carriage roll and bump down the road and out of view.  People smile at her as they passed.  Thanking her for closing the rift and making sure all the demons were dead.  The inn keeper had wondered why she was only getting one room and was there by herself, but he didn’t press Shea for the answer, stating it wasn’t his place to question the Right Hand of the Divine.

Dorian had refused to leave until he was certain she would be ok by herself and had firmly secured a room for as long as she needed before Cullen arrived.  Then she had shoved him into the carriage with Morrigan and Kieran.  She waved them off in a carefree way, though inside her stomach was doing flips.

She is actually in South Reach.  His family could be anywhere.  Though she remembers him saying they lived well outside the village, they could come into town for some reason.  Especially if word got to them that the Inquisition had stopped by to close that rift.  They might hope that their brother was with her.  If they found out she was alone and still there, they might try to meet her without him.  A chill runs down her spine and she darts back into the quaint tavern inn.  She orders some food and takes it up to her room.  Being alone and locked away is probably the safest way to avoid any surprises.

It was still morning in the sleepy little town when they arrived.  Now, it is midday and it is still a sleepy little town.  She actually appeared to be the only guest at the inn.  She sits in the little window seat in her room, the only place to sit save the bed.  It faces the main street of the town.  She watches merchants and farmers barter.  Children giggle and chase a poor helpless chicken around.  It is definitely the quietest town she has been in.  Even Golden Grove was livelier.  But South Reach is an agricultural town.  The buildings in the village are mostly businesses geared towards farmers.

She eventually grows bored just sitting up in her room, but she doesn’t leave.  Her fear of running into a Rutherford keeps her rooted in place.  She reaches in her bag and pulls out her book.  She has yet to get to the end and she knows she needs to so that she would know what to expect when the time comes.  As she reads, every little movement outside her window draws her attention.  When it isn’t Cullen, she continues reading.  Before she knows it, evening starts to fall over the town.  She closes her book and looks out her window one last time.

A man with blonde curly hair walks out of a building with a chubby little boy with curly blonde hair on his shoulders.  She presses her nose against the window.  There is no mistaking the resemblance.  This is clearly Cullen’s brother.  The resemblance is striking.  He shakes the hand of a man who looks to be a blacksmith before setting his son down in a wagon.  The wagon is empty save a few sacks of something.  The little boy toddles around as his father finishes his business.  She feels like a stalker.  She could easily run down there and say hello.  The blacksmith gestures with his hands in her direction.

She rolls off the seat as his brother’s head turns toward her window.  Don’t come up here.  Please don’t come up here.  She gives it a few moments before peaking back out the window.  The man has climbed into the driver’s seat of the wagon and placed his son in his lap.  He snaps the reigns and the horse take off.  The child looks to be laughing loudly as they disappear from view.

She exhales and sinks into the floor.  She runs her fingers through her hair and sighs.  She doesn’t know why the idea of meeting his family without him scares her so much.  It has to come from her issues with her own family.  But from his stories about them, his family is nothing like hers.  She knows without a doubt though that she will not mention seeing Branson and his son to any of them.  It makes her feel like a creep watching them like that.

She shakes her head and laughs at herself.  She pulls herself out of the floor and changes into her nightclothes.  Which as usual consists of her smalls and one of his shirts.  She crawls into bed and stares at the ceiling.  She hopes he will arrive soon.  Not that she is in any hurry to meet the other Rutherfords.  More that she misses him so much it hurts.  She rolls onto her side and rubs her stomach.  The image of Cullen’s nephew enters her mind.  She closes her eyes and wonders if their child would look like that chubby little boy with his crown of golden curls.

***

The sun is just peaking over the horizon as he rides into the village.  He gets off this horse outside the tavern.  He ties her to the post where she can drink water from the trough.  He grabs his belongs from the back of the saddle and goes into the tavern.  There isn’t a single person inside.  He goes to the bar and sees a little sign next to a bell.  He picks up the bell and rings it.  A boy jumps up off the floor.  He’s young, no more than 15.  “I wasn’t sleepin’ I swear!”

Cullen chuckles.  “It’s alright.  I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Oh.  I thought you were my boss.”

“Just a customer.”

“Need a room, ser?”

“Possibly.  I’m looking for a woman.”

The boy smirks, “We don’t have them kind of rooms, ser.”

Cullen blushes and rubs his neck.  “I… I meant… The woman I’m looking for is my fiancé.  I’m supposed to meet her here.”

“Only women we got here is the Inquisitor.”

Cullen’s signature grin pulls his scar up. “That’s her.”

“You’re marryin’ the Herald of Andraste?!”  Cullen nods.  “Well, she’s here, ser.”  He turns to a board full of keys.  He grabs the note from the board and reads it.  “I’m supposed to ask your name.”

“Bann Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

He bows suddenly.  “I’m sorry, ser.  I didn’t know you were noble.”

“Not in Ferelden.  I’m a commoner here.”

“Where you a noble then?”

“Ostwick in the Free Marches.”

“How’s somethin’ like that happen?”

“In-laws.”

They share a laugh and the boy holds out the key.  “She’s in the room at the top of the stairs.  Second door on the right.”

Cullen sets some coin on the counter.  “I’d appreciate it if we weren’t disturbed.”

He scoops the coin off the counter and shoves it in his pocket.  “You can count on me, ser!”

Cullen nods to him and makes for the stairs.  His heart is singing.  In a matter of moments, they will be together again.  He takes the stairs two at a time.  He stops in front of the second door on the right and gently slides the key into the lock.  He turns it slowly and it clicks open.  He pushes it in slowly.  Her back is to the door.  The blankets only covering half her body in an attempt to regulate her temperature.  He closes the door quietly and locks it.  He sets his things down carefully in the corner of the room.  He quickly and as quietly as he can strips completely naked.  He might smell like sweat, dirt, and horse, but he doesn’t care.  He’s sure that she won’t either.

He kneels behind her and brushes her wild hair out of her face and away from her neck.  He brings his lips down softly next to her ear.  He whispers her name.  He nuzzles her neck and inhales.  He moans and whispers her name again.  When she doesn’t respond, he nips at her skin.  His hand trails up her down her side.  Her breathing speeds up but she is still out like a light.  His hand trails further down her side and caresses her leg.  He kisses and sucks her neck and whispers to her.  When she still doesn’t stir, he smirks.

He rolls off the bed and goes to his bag.  He pulls out a bottle of oil and goes back to the bed.  He sets the bottle where he can easily reach it.  He pulls the blanket slowly off her body.  She squirms slightly but he tosses it off to the side.  He slides his hand up her legs and hook his fingers in her waistband and shifts her smalls down.  He can’t get them all the way off without disturbing her, but they are low enough for what he wants to do.  He crawls behind her.  His fingers never leaving her skin.  He grabs the oil and opens it.  He drips some onto his cock and puts the stopper back in the bottle.  He palms himself and coats his length.  He takes his now oiled hand and traces it down the cleft of her ass.

He spreads the oil between her cheeks and then further forward for her soft folds.  He decides that’s what he wants.  Her hot, silky center milking his cock dry as he fucks her.  He scoots in behind her.  He kisses her neck and whispers her name while he lines his slick cock up with her entrance.  He drives himself deep into her.  His hand snakes under her shirt.  His oiled hand glides up her side.  He moves her arm with his free hand and rubs her chest with oil.  He teases her nipple with his thumb.  She moans softly as he drives himself into her tight center.

She writhes against him.  His voice is half whisper half growl when he says her name again.  Breathy moans slip past her lips.  Finally her head turns towards him.  “Good morning, love.”

She reaches back to weave her fingers into his hair.  She moans and purses her lips.  He maneuvers his arm under her neck and cradles her head.  He leans forward and kisses her.  She pants against him.  Her eyes are still closed.  He’s not entirely sure she’s even awake.  Her ass grinds into his hips.   Her lips slowly move more eagerly against his.  His hand and hips continue their assault on her slowly waking body.  Skin slaps against skin.  He rubs and tweaks her nipples.

Her hand tightens in his hair and pulls his mouth harder to hers.  Her moans increase in volume and she moves her hips in rhythm with his.  His lips become raw with the intensity of her kiss.  He pulls his face from hers to catch his breath.  His smirks as her eyes flutter open.  Molten blue pools shine back at him.  “Oh Cullen.”

He nips at her ear.  “Did you miss me?”

She voice is a mixture of moans and air, “Yeah.”  He slams into her and she cries out.  “Yes.  Oh, Cullen. Fuck me.”

He chuckles.  He wraps her firmly in his arms.  Her fingers dig into his forearms.  He nibbles her neck and as he fucks her dripping center from behind.  It’s been far too long since they’ve been together.  He can feel his end approaching far faster than he would like.  He assumes his hunger for her and his lack of a good night’s sleep are contributing factors to his low stamina.  Her walls pulse around him and then tighten suddenly.  Her breath gets caught in her throat and her body shudders.  A creaking and slow cry eventually breaks free.  She leans her head back on his shoulder.

He rolls back a little to better support her.  The space between his chest and her back disappears.  They mold together.  She spreads her legs to provide him with deeper access.  He pulls one of his arm from her and reaches down the rub her frim nub.  She cries out and tightens around him as soon as he makes contact.  She bucks and rocks as this second orgasm rushes through her.

His thrusts become desperate.  He wants to fill her completely.  Explode into her.  He buries his face in the crook of her neck.  Her fingers weave into his hair.  He can feel that she is close again.  She turns her head and kisses the side of his face.  “Come for me, love.”  His grip on her tightens and his hand vibrates against her clit.  She claws at his arm and scalp as the wave of pleasure rolls through her.  Her whole body bucks and shakes.  His cock and fingers send her careening over the edge.

His teeth sink into her shoulder as his own orgasm takes him.  He hilts himself deep inside her and fills her with his white hot seed.  She pants and moans against him as his breath comes stuttering out of him.  She runs her fingers through his hair and waits for his body to calm.  He rolls onto his back with a huff.  She rolls over to face him.  She smirks at his exhausted face.  “Hi.”

He smiles.  “Hello yourself.”

“That’s one way to wake up.”

“Glad I could help.”

She reaches up and runs her finger down his scar.  “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Hearing the melancholy in her voice, he sits up, resting on his elbows.  “Everything alright?  I didn’t hurt you…”

She shakes her head.  “Not at all.  I just… forget it.  I don’t want to talk about all that.”  She scoots closer to him.  He lays back down and rolls onto his side.  He wraps his arm around her and pulls her to his chest.  She looks up at him and smiles.  “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.  And I love you.”

“Good.  Because you really stink.”

He laughs and bends his head to kiss her.  “Is there a washroom in the room?”

“No.  It’s down the hall.  The whole inn shares it.  Though that’s not saying much.”

“Care to join me?”

She smiles.  “With pleasure.”  He kisses her forehead and rolls off the bed.  She sits up and his eyes fall onto her stomach.  She scoots to the edge of the bed and he kneels between her legs.  “Cullen?  What are you doing?”

“You’ve gotten so big.”

“I’m not that much bigger, am I?”

He looks up at her.  “It’s been nearly a month since I’ve seen you.  A lot can happen growth wise in a month.”  She lays back on the bed.  “Did I say something wrong?”  He crawls up on the bed to lay beside her.

“Not really.  I’m just starting to feel… fat.”

He kisses her nose.  “You aren’t fat.”

“I’m past the halfway point and I just keep ballooning.  I’m not going to need to even lace the sides of my dresses at this rate.”

“That means she’s healthy.  You read the book.”

“Not all of it.  I’ve been busy.”

He runs his fingers through her hair.  “Well, Mia isn’t expecting us until tomorrow and...”

Her eyes go wide.  “You told her we’re coming?”

“Yes.  When I figured you’d beat me here, I thought it best to worn her.  Especially when you can’t ride.  It’s a long walk from the village to her house.  I told them not to bother you, because you need your rest.”

She throws her arm over her face.  “Well, I’m sure they know I’m here and think I’m rude for just staying in my room all day.”

“Mia was happy for the warning.  She can get everything ready.  Get the wagon fixed so we have a way out there.  Branson is going to bring it by sometime today.”

“It’s already fixed.  I saw him from my window yesterday.”

“I told them I was expected in tomorrow morning.  So, that gives us the day to just be together.”  He lifts her arm from her face.  “Everything will be fine.  Honestly, I think it is best we not drop in unannounced.  Mia would be furious if the house was a mess when we showed up.”  She looks up at him and he grins.  “Now, can I talk to my daughter or do you need me to comfort you some more?”

“Oh.  When you said you’ve gotten so big…”

“I was talking to her.”

She chuckles.  “She’s squirmy this morning.  I blame you for that.”

He inhales, “You said she!”

She rolls her eyes, “So I did.”

“Have I finally won you over?”

“I’m not sure about all that.  She could still be a boy.  In any case, be careful where you put your face.  She might give you a black eye.”

He eagerly crawls down to talk to her bump.  He rests his hand on it and can feel the baby move inside.  “So, she’s kicking a lot now?”

Shea takes his hand and moves it to a different spot.  “Press gently.”  He does and the baby kicks.

“Maker breath!  She’s strong.”

“Like her parents.”

They lay there as the sun rises.  Cullen coos and hums to the baby, who responds by dancing on her bladder.  She sits up quickly and shoves him out of the way.  “Gotta go.”  She gets up off the bed and pulls her smalls back on.

She peaks her head out the door and then scurries down the hall.  He chuckles and grabs his comfy pants from his bag.  He steps into them and follows after her.  She disappears into the chamber pot and closes the door behind her.  Cullen closes and locks the washroom door and strips. He leans on the edge of the tub and waits for her to come out.

She smiles at the sight of him leaning there completely bare.  She closes the door behind her and walks towards him.  She waves her hand over the tub.  “You first.”  He steps into the bath and she sits on the edge of the tub as she watches him bathe.

“You could help me, you know?”

She folds her arms.  “I could, but it’s very satisfying to watch you.”  He flexes his arm over his head while he washes his arm pit.  “Well, now you’re just showing off.”

He smirks.  “I can stop if…”

“Oh I didn’t say stop.”

He flexes and washes himself.  She bites her lip as he goes.  He dips his head under the water and quickly washes his hair.  When he pops back up, he shakes the water from his curls.  She groans as the water splashes her.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  Did I get you wet?”

She winks at him.  “Sopping.”

He moans.  “I’m clean. Now get in here.”  She waves her hand over the water and purifies it.  She slowly peels off the shirt and he bites his lip.  “You are getting better at the whole striptease thing.” She tosses the shirt aside and turns her back to him.  She slowly removes her smalls.  His head tilts to the side as she bends over before him.  “Yes.  Definitely better.”  She chuckles and steps out the garment.  He holds out his hand and helps her into the tub when she takes it.  He turns her back to him and begins washing her.

“Not content to let me bathe myself?”

His teeth graze her ear.  “You know how much I like doing this.”  She moans and leans back against his chest.  She closes her eyes and relishes in his hands on her body.  Both pleasing her and cleaning her at the same time.  “Do you remember this first time I bathed you?”

“You mean on our first date?”

“Was that our first date?”

She nods.  “Yep.  You had made up a bath for me, and a meal with wine.”

“That can’t be our first date.”

“It was though.”

“By then I had already… fingered you in my tent.”

“Yes, but we never went on a proper date until that night.”

“In any case, I am reminded of that night every time we’re like this.  In the bath, my wet hands teasing your skin.”  She moans as he narrates what his hands are doing.  “Touching you everywhere, except where you so desperately need me to.”  She reaches behind her and weaves her fingers into his hair.  “I know it drives you crazy.  Getting so close…”  His fingers graze the side of her breast, “but slipping away at the last possible moment.” 

She groans.  “Damn you.”

“You love and hate it when I do this to you.  Teasing.  Touching.  But never giving you what you want.”  His fingers trail along her thighs.  She whimpers and pulls his hair.  He rumbles and nips at her neck.  “Tempting you by giving in just a little bit.”  He cups her breast and drags his thumb across her nipple.  “Only to pull away.”

She inhales sharply and whines, “Cullen, please.”

“Listening to you beg me to touch you.”  His fingers brushes high up on her inner thigh.  She whimpers again.  He wraps his arm around her and lifts her onto his lap.  She shifts her hips trying to capture his throbbing member in her folds.  “Watching you lust after me with reckless abandon until finally.”  His thrusts up into her and she cries out.  She grinds against him, moaning and sighing.  “You love this don’t you?”

“Yes.  Maker, yes.”

They buck and grind together.  Spasms roll through her.  Water spills over the side of the tub and splashes onto the floor.  “I know you can be louder than that, my love.”

She lets go of all her self-control.  She moans and yells his name.  His grabs her chest with both hands and massages her breasts.  She bounces on him pushing him closer and closer to the edge.  She feels him begin to tense.  She pants and pulls his hair.  He moans loudly in her ear.  “You like it when I’m rough with you.”  He growls and rumbles in response.  “You like it when I ride your fat cock.”  He squeeze his eyes closed and buries his face in her neck.  He thrusts up as she comes down on him.  She cries loudly.  Heat rushing through her.  “Oh, Cullen.”

“How long has it been since you’ve tasted me?”  She bats his hands away and spins around.  She takes a deep breath and submerges under the water.  She takes him into her mouth and he moans.  He watches her head bob up and down below the water.  When she comes up for air, he stands.  She follows him and resumes her work on him.  He grabs the back of her head and rocks his hip.  Her aggressive pace over his length makes his eyes cross.  He throws his head back and cries her name.  She hums and takes him further into her mouth.  He feels himself slide down her throat.  He screams her name again.  His whole body goes ridge as he unloads.  She greedily sucks everything he has down.  His knees give out and she helps lower him back into the tub.

She caresses his face.  “You look exhausted.  When is that last time you slept?”

“When did you come to me in the Fade?”

“Seriously?”  He nods.  She stands up and retrieves two towels.  She wraps one around herself and holds the other open for him.  He pulls himself up out of the tub.  He wraps the towel around him while she gathers their clothes.  She points to the door.  “March.”

He smirks and salutes, “Yes, ma’am.”  They hurry down the hall and into their room.  He quickly dries himself and climbs into the bed.  She sets their clothes down and locks the door.  She dries off and climbs into bed next to him.  He pulls the blanket over them.  She lays on her side and he snuggles in behind her.  “Are you tired as well?”

“Not really.  But I’m sure I can sleep more soundly now that you’re here.”

“Then I’ll see you later today.”

She turns her head and he kisses her.  “I love you.”

He smirks and his eyes close.  He snuggles into the crook of her neck.  “I love you, too.”  He barely gets the sentence out before he passes out.  She chuckles and lays in his embrace, beyond happy that they are together again.

***

He sleeps through most of the day and though she could stay wrapped in is arms forever, her bladder and hunger pulls her away from him.  When she comes back in the room, he has rolled onto his stomach with the blanket cast to the side.  His mouth hangs open and his perfect ass is beautifully lit by the sun streaming through the window.  Soft snores escape his lips.  His golden curls loose and wild on top of his head.  Not wanting to disturb him, she scoops up her book and sits on the window seat.

The village is bustling today.  She wonders why so many people are there.  She turns her attention to her book.  She loses track of time as she reads about the coming months in her pregnancy.  She hears him groan and she closes the book.  He has rolled onto his back and is shaking his head.  “No.  I don’t want it.”  She sets the book aside and goes to him.  She kneels on the bed bedside him and runs her fingers through his hair.  His eyes dart behind his lids.  It’s been a long time since she’s seen him have a nightmare.  She wipes the sweat from his forehead.  “Leave me alone.”  She runs her thumb down his scar.  “I won’t.”

“Cullen.  Wake up, sweetheart.”  His shakes his head from side to side and continues to mumble and groan.  She traces the lines on his face.  She leans towards his ear.  “Cullen.  My love.  I’m here.”  His hands flies up and grabs her neck.  She gasps and grabs his wrist.

“I won’t take it.”

His grip tightens and she closes her eyes.  She focuses on breathing through the pain.  Whatever he is seeing in his head has a strong hold on him and he must be fighting it.  She presses her hand on his chest.  She is still bent over him and would move closer to his face again, if she were able to move.  Her throat burns and she can feel the bruises forming.  She chokes out his name.  Her fingers dig into his wrist and chest.  His grip tightens further. 

“You will not control me.”

Her air is officially cut off and she summons electricity into her fingers.  She rakes them down his chest.  Her nails leave thin red lines down his chest and she shocks him.  His eyes fly open and he sits up.  She tugs on his wrist and he releases her.  She gasps for air and rolls onto her side.  He presses his palms into his eye sockets.  Her coughing pulls him out of his waking stupor.  He touches her side and she doesn’t flinch away.  “Maker’s breath.  Love, are you ok?”  She holds up her thumb.  “I haven’t had a nightmare that intense in ages.  I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

She pushes up and he hisses.  Tears leap into his eyes as reaches toward her neck.  A deep red handprint is slowly turning purple.  She holds up her finger and wraps her own hand around her neck.  Her magic glows.  When she pulls her hand away, all evidence of his attack is gone.  “See.  All good.”

“Shea, that’s not good.  I could have killed you.”

She places her hand on his chest and heals the marks she left.  “You didn’t.  It’s been so long that I forgot how to wake you properly.”

“That’s no excuse for chocking…”

She touches his face.  “There is no harm done.  I’m fine.  I wasn’t scared.  It’s not the first time you’ve lashed out.  I should have been faster.”

“Please stop blaming yourself.”  He buries his face in his hands.  “I thought I was free.”

“You are free.”

“Then why the fuck am I having these nightmares?  I would understand if they were about the horrors I’ve seen but these are… different.  New.”

She notices the claw marks on his wrist and takes his hand.  She heals the little crescents.  “What are the dreams about?”

“Various people trying to get me back on lyrium.  Your uncle, templars I’ve known, Danielle, Meredith, Cassandra, and… you.”

“You know I’d never…”

“I know.  Neither would Cassandra.”

“Who was it tonight?”

“You.  Not Fade you, just you.  The way you looked before Haven.  While my withdrawals and nightmares were the worst.”

“The demon was making them worse, right?”

He nods.  “Now that she isn’t there manipulating them, they are… less about torture or sex and more focused on lyrium.”

“How long have you been hearing the song again?”

He looks at her.  “How did you know…?”  He sighs.  “I should have told you.  I never stopped hearing it.  It was quieter and I could almost ignore it.  I’ve been having these nightmares since… you saved me.”

She touches his face.  “I’m willing to put money on this being my fault.”

“How?”

“I poured at lot of magic into you.  I’m willing to bet it increased the amount of lyrium in your system.  Like you did with Dorian that one time.  Or maybe it’s the addiction’s last ditch attempt to get you to take it again.”

“I don’t know.  I just wish they’d stop.  I can’t keep lashing out like that.”

“We may never know for sure.  No one else has ever tried to do what you are doing.  It’s trial and error.  But you can’t keep me in the dark.  I’m a Dreamer now.  I can help you with the nightmares.  I can make sure to keep lyrium away from you.  I noticed you don’t have nightmares when I’m with you.  Or at least I can’t tell that you are.  We’ve got all the time in the world to figure this out.”

“Not if I kill you.”

She chuckles.  “You won’t kill me, sweetheart.”

“I…” She presses her finger against his lips.

“You forget that I have magic now.  I’ll wake you before that ever happens.  Trust me.”  He flops backwards on the bed and stares at the ceiling.  “You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“I saw the bruise forming.  And just because you healed it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

She crawls up beside him and blocks his view of the ceiling with her face.  “I love you.  Flaws and all.  I do not fear you.  Never have and never will.  I know this upsets you, but I’m fine.  Really.  I trust you more than anyone and lashing out during a nightmare isn’t something you can control.  Which I know you hate, but I don’t blame you.  So, you shouldn’t blame yourself.”  He places his hands on either side of her face.

“I don’t deserve you.”

She rolls her eyes.  “Cullen.  Don’t let the little setbacks in your progress bring you down.  You were finally starting to see yourself the way I do and I would hate to start all over again.  Your past doesn’t matter.  Your addiction doesn’t matter.  Just be the man I know that you are.”

“Even if that man puts his hands on you.”

She groans.  “Andraste’s ass.  You didn’t put your hands on me.  You lashed out during a nightmare.  That is hardly your fault.  I’m not some defenseless girl.  I can and will defend myself when I need to.  You might be physically stronger than me, but I have magic now.  That little zap is just a tiny amount of the power I possess.  Strike me of your own accord, your own free will, and then we’ll have something to talk about.”

“I would never…”

“My point exactly.  Now, I’m done talking about this.  And I won’t tolerate a grumpy, self-loathing fiancé while we’re having a little vacation.  No Inquisition.  No duties.  Just a man and a woman spending a few moments of peace together, before this man introduces this woman to his family.”

He can’t help the smirk that crosses his face.  “I think my special powers might be rubbing off on you.”

She smiles.  “That or you like it when I get forceful.”

He pulls her face to his.  He kisses her with a fire than makes her melt into him.  He sits up and pulls her away from him.  She groans at the absence of his lips.  “Just… hold that thought… I uh… brought somethings with me.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not at all.”  He slides off the bed and goes to his bag.  “Now, I know what you might be thinking.  When did I find the time to do this?  Well, I didn’t.  Bull did.  He took it upon himself, actually.”  She hasn’t heard a word he said since getting off the bed.  Especially not while he’s bent forward digging through his bag.  She bites her lip and drinks in the view in front of her.  He straightens and looks behind him.  “Are you listening?”

She blinks rapidly and shakes her head.  “Sorry.  Your ass is distracting.”

He smirks.  “As I was saying.  It’s a little weird to have Bull pick out stuff for… us.  But he says if we like it, then he can help us… expand our horizons.  His words.”

“If this is going where I think it’s going, should we maybe wait until we’re not about to meet your family?  I’ve been in the position you want me to put you in.  Sitting is not the most pleasant experience afterwards.”

He turns around with a small box in his hands.  “Maybe you’re right.  But we can at least look at them.  And… maybe I could use something on you?”

“An interesting proposition.”  He sets the box on the bed.  She reaches for it and he grabs her hand.  “What is it?”

“Did you tell Dorian?”

She grins.  “Yes, but not all the details.  He did give me a few pointers for next time.”

He picks the box back up and returns it to his bag.  “We should wait then.  I have a feeling that whole thing is going to take a while and I really don’t want Mia or my other siblings asking questions.”

“They’re going to know you’ve had sex.”

“That’s not… I mean I know that…”  He rubs his neck.

She chuckles.  “Waiting sounds good.  Your blushing would give you away very quickly.”

“My blushing?”  He charges her and she ends up on her back with him hovering above her.  “Tell me future wife.  How was our first child conceived?”

She smirks.  “Cullen, if you don’t know how babies are made, we need to have a very different kind of discussion.”

“Rosalie will want to know.”

“What?”

“My sister.  Rosalie.  She’s going to want to know when and where our baby was conceived.”

She flushes bright red and covers her face.  “She’s not really going to ask that is she?”

He kisses the back of her hands.  “You never know.”

“You wouldn’t be able to tell that story any better than I can.”

“True.  But if she doesn’t ask, Branson will ask me in private.”

“Your siblings sound… I’m not sure what word I’m looking for, but you aren’t painting a very flattering picture.”

He chuckles and pulls her hands away from her face.  “Love.  I’m only joking. At least I hope I’m joking.  They will undoubtedly ask countless questions.  Some of which we might actually be able to answer without looking like…”

“A couple of school girls?”

“Not the words I would have chosen, but yes.”

She runs her hands up his chest.  “Well… if it is any consolation, you are better at talking about all this stuff than I am.”

“We shouldn’t need to talk about it.  They won’t ask you.  You’re the Inquisitor, the Right Hand of the Divine, and a guest.  My siblings might be common but Mia would not allow them to be heathens.  Me on the other hand, I’m fair game.”

She looks over at the window and then back at him.  “Do you think it’s weird that we’re just hanging out in South Reach with them knowing we’re here?”

“They don’t know we’re here.”

“They know I’m here.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“I saw your brother in town yesterday.  The blacksmith across the street pointed to our window.  I rolled into the floor, and then had to fight to get off the floor, he looked up here, but I don’t think he saw me.  People have been looking up here all morning.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Then why do you sit in the window where people can see you?”  She looks away from him and mumbles something under her breath.  He brushes her nose with his.  “What was that?”

“Because I have a hard time getting off the bed by myself and that window seat is much easier.”

He kisses her.  “Well.  I’m here now and I can help you stand up whenever you want.”

“Glad to hear it.  Because I have to pee.”

He laughs and helps her up.  “We can discuss our plans for the rest of the day when you get back.”

***

He sits behind her in his comfortable pants.  In her reclined position, she has managed to balance a bowl of grapes on her stomach.  She holds their book and they are reading together.  He reaches forward to turn the page.

“Hang on.  I’m not done.”

“Are you trying to memorize it?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

He kisses the top of her head.  “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t finished it yet.”

“I’ve been a little busy.”  She flips the page.

“I suppose that’s understandable.”   He plucks a grape from the bowl and pops it into his mouth.

“Hey.  Those aren’t for you.”

He chuckles.  “Am I supposed to starve to death then?”

She looks up at him.  “We just had dinner and I’m eating for two.  So, hands off the grapes.”

“You haven’t touched them since we started this chapter.”

“How can I possibly want to eat when it’s been talking about how fat I’m going to get?”

He laughs.  “You aren’t going to get fat.”

“Have you seen my feet?  They are twice the size they used to be.”

“Yet they are still small and dainty.”

She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the page.  He rests his chin top of her head as they read together.  He points to something on the page.  “It says here that babies can dream.  Have you two ever dreamed together?”

“Morrigan said that me being pregnant in the Fade is a clear indication that the baby is dreaming.  But since I’ve only recently become a Dreamer, I haven’t actually witnessed one of her dreams.”  He hmms and goes back to reading.  She looks up at him.  “You know.  If I do manage to dream with her, it might reveal information we promised not to find out?”

“You think you can figure out the sex just from dreaming together?”

“Morrigan said Kieran dreamed about things in his world.  Her voice.  His surroundings.  She figured put he was a boy because he was dreaming about the things happening to his body one night.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t do that.  Varric would be very angry if we messed up the bet he has going.”

“I might not be able to help it.  Thinking of things in the Fade is one of the ways you can travel around.  It’s how I ended up in your dream.”

“Fair enough.  If you somehow find out, don’t tell me.  Just keep calling her, her and we’ll be fine.”

“Will you be disappointed if after all this time it turns out to be a boy?”

He shakes his head.  “No.  But I just… I just keep thinking about a little version of you running around.”

“I alternate between a little version of you and a little girl version of you.  Depends on what inspired the thought in the first place.”

“How’s the brainstorming for names coming?”

“Fine.”

“Me too.”

She looks up at him.  He looks completely sure of himself.  “Have you thought of boy names?”

“I have, though I don’t think I’ll need it.”

She returns her attention to the page in front of her.  She still hasn’t come up with any good options.  She hasn’t come up with any bad options either.  She is at a loss for what name would fit their child.  It upsets her.  She hates that everyone around her is able to come up with multiple suggestions and she can’t even come up with one.  She was starting to hope that she loses her birthdate prediction bid so she wouldn’t have to tell him that she had zero ideas.

“I have a question for you.”

She looks up at him.  “Yes?”

“Do you think our predictions will be impacted by the information we learned from your mother?”

“She knew the date I was born.  That’s the only information we know.  Donna’s story was a complete fabrication.”

“Do you think we should ask?”

“Are you second guessing your prediction?”

He chuckles.  “No.  But I’d feel better knowing we’re on the right track.”

She taps the book in her hands.  “This is all the information we need.  It tells us what to expect and when to expect it.  And the author is our midwife.  It’ll be close to 40 weeks.  That’s all we need to know.”

Sensing the finality of her tone, he decides not to dig deeper into the subject, but something nags at him.  “Can I… I’d like to… I’m not sure how to… or even if I should…”

She closes the book and turns to face him.  “It must be an uncomfortable subject if it makes you stammer like that.”

“It is.  And I think it’s more uncomfortable for you, thus my… hesitation.”

“It’s about my family.”

“Yes.  There are very few members of your family left in the world.  And I understand that a lot of things have come to light that have…”

“Utterly crushed everything I thought my family was?”  He waits for her to continue.  It’s not a question he is meant to answer.  “None of them are the people I thought they were.  The ones who are dead can’t answer for themselves.  My whole life has been one big lie.  A lie that I’m having a very hard time reconciling with.  First Emeric, then Uncle Hayden and every Trevelyan templar, then Brandon, and then my parents.  The values that I was raised with have been contradicted and I have to rely on my own instincts of right and wrong.  I’m trying to get over this.  I really am.  But to go from having a large, well respected family to a half-brother, elf mother, and adopted mother who hates me, is a lot to take in.”

“That wasn’t going to be my question.”

“Then what is it?’

“I know what it feels like to want to… distance yourself from family.  I did the exact same thing after the events at Kinloch.  My question though is if you want the distance to be permanent?”

She looks away and out the window.  The sun is low in the sky.  “Did you?”

“Want it to be permanent?  At the time, yes.  You know I wasn’t in a good place back then.  It took joining the Inquisition and, more importantly, meeting you that made me want to reconnect.”

“I’m not sure what I want.  Distance seems the best bet right now.  I think Brandon will always have a role to play in my life, though it doesn’t feel like that role is brother.  Whatever that means.”  She looks into his eyes.  “Quite honestly, if I never saw any of them again, I’d be happy.  They… complicate things.  I’m so done with complicated.  You, our child, and our friends are all the family I need.”

“A family of your own choosing?”

“Exactly.”

He runs his fingers through her hair.  “I can support that.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to meet and love your family.  I know they mean a lot to you.”

“They do, but we’re very different people than we were when I left home.  I have high hopes, true.  But I’m not unrealistic.  Time and age change people.”

“Do they seem so different in the letters you received?”

“It’s hard to imagine them as anything more than children.  I imagine it’s the same for them.  It’s been… nineteen years.”  He chuckles.  “And now I’m nervous.”

“They love you.  I can tell from the letter Mia sent me.  And from the way you speak of them, you love them too.  Distance and time may have changed things, but ultimately, they care about your happiness.”

He cups her face.  “And I care about yours.  If, for whatever reason, you don’t like them…”

“Cullen.  Your family and I already have one thing in common.  You.  Am I worried about what they’ll think of me?  Of course, but they are your family and they seem to be very different from mine.  We should just keep an open mind and hope for the best.”

He kisses her forehead.  “Let’s finish this chapter and get some rest.  We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

She tilts her face up and he brings his lips to her.  She turns to recline on his chest and opens the book. He wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on the top of her head.  They continue to read as the little fades from the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 28, 2018


	18. Hidden Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you guys are enjoying my take on the events before Trespasser. This is honestly much longer than I expected it to be lol!

Cullen wakes before her.  He stretches as hints of light start to break through the darkened sky.  He looks over at the sleeping woman next to him and grins.  It is a rare treat to be awake before her as some force or another would wake her before him.  Especially on the road.  She was usually up before the sun, but now that she is a Dreamer, he imagines she’ll be off exploring some aspect of the Fade and it would be his job to wake her.

He decides to let her sleep a little longer.  He brushes her wild hair out of her face to get a better look at her.  Her eyes move behind her lids.  Her dark lashes fluttering slightly from the movement.  Every moment he looks at her, he feels like he is falling more in love with her.  Though he doesn’t know how that’s even possible when he loves her with every fiber of his being as it is.  He thanks the Maker every single day for her.  Their lives aren’t easy and there is always something lurking in the shadows that could take her from him.  At least that’s how he feels.

His mind drifts to recent events.  This mystery woman who had a problem with any and all Trevelyans regardless of how far removed they were.  Who could hate her family so much that they were willing to kill every single one?  He just couldn’t wrap his mind around why anyone would want her dead.  Not after everything she has done and can still do.  Then there is Danielle and Alistair’s betrayal of her friendship.  He knows that hurt her more than she is willing to admit.  He doesn’t think they’d be stupid enough to attack them.  He can’t deny that he is a little conflicted about the idea of going to war with Ferelden.  But for her, he’d do it.  Though his men, who are a mix of people from different nations, might.  Their loyalty would be tested if it came to that and he would not hold it against his countrymen if they chose to leave the Inquisition in favor of supporting their homeland.

If he is honest with himself, he feels a little betrayed as well.  By Danielle more than Alistair.  She was his first love.  His first relationship.  His first everything really.  His first taste of the joys life held.  She was his savior more than once and he thought he knew what kind of woman she was.  But the Warden Queen of Ferelden had changed in the years since he had last seen her in Kirkwall.  Maybe it was desperation to control some aspect of her life or she was jealous that Shea was able to save the world and get the things she wanted, like love and family.  Danielle would likely never have both.

He shakes his head and turns his sights back on the woman beside him.  The woman who truly saved him.  He has a hard time imagining what his life would have been like had she not been the Inquisitor.  If she was not the one to carry the mark that still causes her pain every day.  She could try to hide it, but he can see it in her eyes.  It will plague her for the rest of her life.  A constant reminder of everything she sacrificed and everything she accomplished.  He may have hated Corypheus, but he is a touch grateful that everything had played out as it did.  He feels a pang of guilt and selfishness about that.  So many people died to bring them together.  Yet, even feeling as he does, he wouldn’t change a thing, expect for leaving her in Halamshiral.  It is his one regret.  She needed him and he abandoned her.  Let the lyrium he took to save her life drive a wedge between them.

Thinking about it made the song sing through his veins.  It doesn’t help that she needs to keep it on hand.  Or that he could hear it hum in her body.  He knew he can resist, but it is like a gnat constantly circling his head.  Unseen, but hard to ignore.  He often wonders if cold turkey was the right way to go.  Maybe if he had been able to ween himself off it wouldn’t be so bad.  He rubs his temples and closes his eyes.  He hopes that one day the song with finally be gone and he will know what silence actual sounds like.

He slides out of bed and stretches his stiff muscles.  Today is the day.  After nineteen long years, he is finally going to see his family again.  Meet his sister-in-law and his nephew.  He feels unbridled joy and bone shaking anxiety at the same time.  He has no idea what he should wear.  Something casual?  His armor?  He lays his options out on the foot of the bed and stands staring at them for a while.  He crosses his arms over his bare chest and rubs his scruffy chin.  The hair rasps under his fingers.  Should he shave?  And what of his hair?  Should he wear it in his usual way or let his natural curls run free?

He sighs and runs his finger through his hair.  _This shouldn’t be this hard.  They won’t care how I look._   He stares at the clothes on the bed for far longer than he realizes.

The sun comes beaming in through the window.  She rolls onto her back and rubs her eyes.  Her hand reaches to the side, searching for him.  “Cullen?”

Her voice breaks his trace and he goes to her.  “I’m here.  Need help?”  She nods.  He helps her out of bed and she pushes past him to relieve herself.  He resumes his stoic contemplation.  When she returns, she watches his eyes shift between his options.

“Want my opinion?”

“Absolutely.  Yes.”

She moves to stand next to him.  She wraps her arms around his waist and looks up at him.  “This isn’t a formal affair or a war meeting.  Today, you are a brother returning home.”

He looks down at her.  “So, no armor?”

She chuckles.  “If it makes you feel more comfortable to wear it, by all means.”

“You’re right.  Mia will complain if I show up in full armor.”

“I see you got the shirt Dorian got your repaired.”

“It’s a different shirt.  The old one was… too far gone.”

“Are you wearing your sword?”

He shakes his head.  “No, but I’m bringing both the sword and the shield.  Just in case.”

“Then I’ll…” she trails off and bites her lip.  “How does your family feel about mages?”

He studies her face.  She suddenly looks terrified.  He turns to fully face her and cups her face with both hands.  “I’m sure they know you are a mage.  And I’m certain they won’t have a problem with it.  And if they do, we’ll leave.”

“Or I could…”

“Nonsense.  Where you go, I go.”  She smiles and he kisses her forehead.  “We should get ready and find something to eat.  I hope Branson remembered to dropped off that wagon.”  She turns to her attention to what she wants to wear.  She pulls a few dresses out and sets them next to Cullen’s shirt.  “Are you trying to match me?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“To use your own words here, this isn’t a formal affair.”

She chuckles.  “So, the red one is out.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“Oh, so you think you know what I should wear but not yourself?”

He wraps his arms around her and playfully kisses her neck and face.  She giggles and squirms in his grasp.  She smacks his arm and he stops.  He rests his chin on her shoulder and points.  “I like that way that one looks on you.”

“Then that’s what I’ll wear.  I... uh… I will need help putting on my boots.  That’s been Dorian’s job this whole trip.”

“I’m sure he loved that.”

“Complained the whole time.”

He chuckles.  “I can imagine.”

He kisses her cheek and releases her.  They lapse into silence as they get dressed for the day.  He peeks out the window and there is not a single cloud in the sky.  The bright spring day greets him.  She might get cold, he makes a mental note to bring her cloak, but he’s going to be sweating.  He rolls up the sleeves of his red embroidered shirt before tucking it into his black pants.  He puts on his black leather belt and boots.  He turns to her.  Her hair is still a mess, but the plum colored dress makes her skin glow.  Her eyes reflect the sun making them look like blue diamonds.  A goofy smirk appears on his face.  She spots him studying her as she struggles the lace the sides of the dress.

“Can I help you with something?”

“What?”

“You looked like you needed to ask me something.”

“Oh?  Oh!  Yes.  I should lace this, right?”

She walks over to him and twirls the chest hair peeking out between the open laces.  “Unless you want me doing this the whole day, then I’d recommend it.”  She laces it for him while he blushes.  She rubs her hand along his jaw.  “Letting it grow out again?”

“I thought about shaving it.”

“Leave it.  Otherwise, we’ll be primping and grooming all morning.”  She picks up a tiny box and heads for the door.  “I’m off to do my hair.”

“What are you doing to it?”

“Nothing outrageous.  Worry about your own hair.”  She smirks and ducks out of the room.

He grabs a pair of socks out of her bag and sets them and her boots on the bed.  He opts to slick his hair back.  He grabs the bottle of product from his bag and goes to the washroom.  She is combing and braiding parts of her wet hair when he enters.  She moves over so he can use the mirror.  He wets his hand and drags the water into his hair.  He pours a little liquid into his hands, rubs them together, and runs them through his hair.  He hears her chuckle.

“What?”

“Nothing.  It’s just that Josie and Leliana are convinced you take a long time to get your hair just right.”

He chuckles.  “I think you can plainly see that I don’t.  Except when it’s longer.  Then I have to fight with it more.”  He washes his hands and dries them on a towel.  “Are you plaining on braiding the whole thing?”

She rolls her eyes.  “You’re so fixated on my hair.”

He reaches over and wraps one of the wet curls around his finger.  He tugs on it gently before letting it go.  “I like this length.”

“I though you liked my hair longer?”

“I do, but I like the way it wraps around my fingers when it curls.”

She smirks and unbraids her hair.  She fluffs the wet hair and her curls separate as if by magic.  The delicate spirals frame her face, cover her ears, and brush her collarbone.  She waves her hand over her hair and the curls dry.  “All done.  Happy?”

He pushes her hair behind her ear and bends down to kiss neck.  She moans, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

She groans as his lips trial up and down her neck.  “We just got ready.  We’ll just have to do it all over again.”

He laughs against her skin.  “Not if we don’t touch each other’s hair.  Which I know is a problem for you.”

“Andraste guide me.”  She turns her back to him and steps towards the tub.  She grabs the edge, bending over in front of him.  “Well?”

He smiles and steps towards her.  He gathers up her skirt and shoves it up her back.  He yanks down her smalls and she lets out a little yelp.  She spreads her feet apart and his hand reaches between her legs.  She rotates her hips and moans as his fingers trace her folds.  “Maker.  You’re already wet.”

She looks back at him over her shoulder.  “Always.”

A rumble escapes from deep within him.  He struggles to free his aching cock with his free hand.  She grinds against his hand, her arousal making his palm and fingers slick.  He drops his pants around his ankles.  He grabs her hips and sheaths himself in her slippery center.  He thrusts into her with reckless abandon.  His hips smacking loudly against her supple rear.  Her body is rocked by spasms as she comes.  She cries his name and her grip tightens on the tub.

She rocks her hips and her back arches.  He grabs hold of her shoulders and pulls her to his chest.  She grabs the back of his neck.  His slides his hands around her and cups her breasts over her dress.  Her heads falls back and his lips press into her neck.  He grunts and rumbles as his breath becomes shallow with his relentless thrusts.  Her walls tighten around him and she cries out.  She grabs his hands and presses them harder into her chest.

He nips at her neck and ear.  His whole body tenses and he hugs her tighter against him.  She flexes and pulses around him and he doesn’t fight that wave of pleasure that rushes through him.  He moans loudly in her ear as his warmth spreads inside her.  He bends forward and her hands grip the edge of the tub to keep them vertical.  He pants against her back as the aftershocks flood his system.  He lets out a slow exhale before straightening and stepping back from her.  Her legs tremble and his seed drips from her folds.  He pulls up his pants and turns to grab a towel.  He dips it in the water and turns back to her.

He reaches between her legs and cleans her up.  She gasps as the cold cloth touches her sensitive skin.  He pulls the towel away once she is clean and pulls up her smalls.  She slowly straightens and lets the dress fall.  She runs her hands over the fabric to smooth the wrinkles.  He examines himself in the mirror to make sure there are no signs of their morning rut.  She stands behind him and wraps her arms around him while he adjusts himself.  He smirks.  “And not a hair out of place.”

She presses her lips between his shoulder blades.  “Maker be praised.”

He turns in her arms and cups her face.  “Satisfied?”  She nods.  “Good.”  He kisses her and takes her hand.  “Now, let’s get those boots on and find something to eat.”

***

Shea sits next to Cullen on the front seat of the small wagon.  His horse was already hooked up to it when they left the tavern after having a small breakfast.  She hugs his arm as the wagon bumps down the worn path.  A path that was no more than two worn ruts in the ground.  It comes off the main road towards the river that cuts across Ferelden.  “Mia wrote me when they found this place.  Father always said he wanted a piece of land by the water so that farming would be easier if the rains were scarce.”

She is only half listening to him talk.  The closer they get the more self-conscious she becomes.  Her mind races with all the things that could possibly go wrong.  His stories aren’t helping either.  It’s just another reminder of where they are going.

He looks down at her and she looks little pale.  He pulls on the reigns to stop the horse.  “Why are we stopping?”

“What are you thinking right now?”

“Uh… I’m wondering why we stopped.”

“Then why are you pale?”

She touches her cheek.  “Am I?”

“Shea.  You’re worrying about meeting them aren’t you?”

She sighs.  “My mind just keeps bringing up things that could go wrong.  Like what if I’m shy like I was in front of Sheanni?”

“Then I’ll help you through it.  You don’t have to say a damn word if you don’t want to.  And don’t worry about them not liking you, because I know that’s a concern of yours.  I know for a fact Mia already likes you.  Be prepared to be thanked, a lot, for making me come visit.”

“I’m not wholly responsible for that.”

“But you are a huge factor.”  He sets the reigns in his lap and takes her hands.  “Love.  Relax.  Just be yourself and everything will be fine.”

“I hope so.  If this doesn’t go well, it’ll crush you.”

He squeezes her hands.  “Please stop worrying.  Forget they’re my siblings if it make you feel better.”

“I’m sure one look at them and I’ll be reminded again.”

He chuckles.  “Branson looks a lot like me.  Mia and Rosalie look more like our mother.”

“How so?”

He picks to the reigns and snaps them.  The wagon lurches forward and she grips his arm again.  “You’ll see soon enough.”

A pillar of grey smoke appears on as they crest a small hill.  As they reach the top, they see a small farm.  There is house and a barn.  Chickens wander around as well as a small heard of sheep.  It seems very quiet.  The animals and the whinny of a horse are the only signs of life.  They continue along the path.  The chickens scatter as the wagon pulls up to the barn.  She looks inside and sees various tools and a single brown horse.

The front door of the house faces the little courtyard in front of the barn.  He climbs down off the wagon.  As soon as his feet hit the ground, he turns back to her.  When she doesn’t move towards him he smirks.  “Just going to stay up there all day?”  She rolls her eyes and scoots towards him.  He reaches up to her and he hooks his hands under her arm pits as she slides down.  He lowers her to the ground and she smirks.  “What?”

“It’s not something I should say to you if you don’t want to have to hide an erection from your family.”

He chuckles and takes her hand.  She laces her fingers with his and sighs.  “Ready?”

“No.”

He shakes his head.  “Come on, love.”  He turns and starts walking towards the front door of the house.  “You’ve fought and killed dragons.  This is nothing compared to that.”

He leads her to the door and stops.  He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.  He doesn’t know why he is nervous.  They are his siblings and he knows they love him.  He has a strong feeling they’ll like her too.  The knob rattles before it turns.  The door slowly opens and there’s Mia.  Her sandy blonde hair tied back in a bun at the back of her head.  Her golden eyes brimming with tears when she sees him.

“It’s about time you showed up.”

“Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

The tears spring from her eyes.  “Oh!  Come here!”  She pulls him into a tight hug and he wraps his arm around her.  She is almost as tall as he is.  “Maker.  It’s been too long.”

He sinks further into the hug.  He hadn’t realized just how much he missed his sister until this very moment.  He pulls his hand from Shea’s to wrap his other arm around his sister.  A woman’s voice from inside calls out.  “Stop hogging him!  It’s my turn!”

Mia pulls back from him and wipes the tears from her cheek.  Shea might as well be invisible.  Mia touches his scar briefly before she gets shoved out of the way.  The arms of a woman with a mass of sandy blonde curls fly around his neck and he has to practically catch her as she throws herself at him.  Her laughter fills the air.  Her joy at seeing her brother too much to hold in.  Shea takes a few steps back to give them room.  Mia still has a hand on his arm as if she were to stop touching him, he’d vanish.

A man comes out of the house.  Looking almost exactly like Cullen.  His eyes are golden and his blonde curls ruffle in the breeze.  He pulls the woman off Cullen and takes her place.  He claps Cullen on the back.  “You’ve gotten old.”

“You’re as rude as ever.”  They hug again and then part.  The siblings surround him.  Chattering away about how much they missed him.  He looks around and sees that she has retreated to give them their moment.  He pushes past his siblings and grabs her hand.

He leads her to the group.  Mia gasps.  “This is her then?”

Rosalie fluffs her hair and brushes off the front of her calf length blue dress.  Her voice is no louder than a hushed whisper.  “Maker’s breath.  The Herald of Andraste.”

“Uh... yes… this is Shea.  My fiancé.”

Mia hits him in the arm.  “Fiancé!  Why am I just hearing about this?!”

Branson winks at his brother, “Nice.”

Cullen rubs his arm.  “I… thought you’d have heard.”

She hits him again.  “I shouldn’t have to _hear_ about.  _You_ should have told me!”  Shea covers her mouth to hide her sniggering at the scowl on his face.  “That seems like news that should be delivered in person.”

Mia finally looks at Shea.  She holds out her hand and Shea tentatively takes it.  Mia pulls her into a hug.  “It’s so nice to meet you in person.  And I’ll probably say this more than once, but thank you.”  Shea wraps her arm around Mia while maintaining a death drip on Cullen’s hand.  Mia pulls back and looks her up and down.  “Maker!  Look at you!”  Her hand flutters towards her stomach and she stops herself.  She looks into Shea’s eyes.  She lets out the breath she was holding as his sister’s golden irises shine brightly at her.  “May I?”  She nods and Mia’s hand comes to rest on her stomach.  “I feel like such a sap.”  She wipes more tears from her cheek.  “How far along are you?”

Shea swallows and clears her throat before answering.  “5 months.  6 is a few days.”

Mia reaches over to smack Cullen who dodges the swing.  “You should have brought her over sooner!  Making her travel in this condition!”

Shea chuckles.  “It wasn’t his fault.  I’ve had a lot to do… business wise and little time to do it.”

Mia smacks her forehead.  “Oh right!  Uh… I’m sure you get this a lot, but thanks for not letting the world fall to pieces.”

Shea smiles.  “I get that a lot, yes.  And you’re welcome.  Though I didn’t do it for thanks.”

Rosalie pushes between them.  “Stop hogging her!”  She beams at Shea.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Rosalie.”  She reaches up and touches Shea’s hair.  “Wow!  You’re pretty!  Why in the world would someone who looks like you want to marry my goofy looking brother?”

“I am not…”

Shea laughs.  “Oh, I don’t know.  He looks pretty dashing to me.”  His face turns bright red and he rubs his neck.  Rosalie claps happily.

“Nothing has changed!  You’re still that awkward boy from Honnleath.”

Branson puts his hand on Rosalie’s shoulder.  “Come on, Rosie.  Don’t embarrass our brother in front of the beautiful woman.”  He sticks out his hand.  “I’m Branson.  The clearly more attractive brother.”

She shakes his hand.  “Debatable.”

He laughs and looks over at Cullen.  “Oh.  I like her.”

Mia waves her hands in the air.  “Goodness!  I’m being rude!  Come in!  Come in!”  She ushers everyone inside.  It takes a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim room.  Once they have, they are greeted by a large open room.  Mismatched couches and chairs make up the living room.  Little wooden toys are scattered in the center on a soft looking rug.  The room is split in half by a dining table.  At the back of the room is a full sized kitchen.  A hallway next to the counter leads to the back of the house, which they assume leads to the bedrooms.

Mia rushes into the kitchen and pulls open the oven.  The smell of fresh baked cookies hits Shea’s nose and she drops Cullen’s hand.  She crosses the room and heads right for Mia.  “Those smell fantastic!”

Mia smiles over her shoulder.  “I bake when I’m nervous.  So, I’ve been baking since I got Cullen’s letter that you were coming.  There’s some ready on the table if you’d like some.”

Shea turns to the dining table and sits down facing the kitchen.  “Nervous?  Why were you nervous?”

Mia sets the steaming sheet of cookies on top of the stove.  Branson reaches for one and she smacks his hand.  “Cool ones are on the table.”  He sticks his tongue out at her and grabs a few from the basket.  He winks at Shea and continues back into the living room.  She hears a smack and looks back to see Branson rubbing the back of his head and Rosalie giggling.  She makes eye contact with Cullen as he laughs with his younger siblings.  He smirks and then dodges a flying cookie.  Mia yells.  “Stop that!  You are adults.  Act like it!” 

Shea laughs and picks at her cookie.  “Is it always like that?”

Mia sighs and sits next to her.  “No. I promise they are more mature than this… most of the time.  I think seeing him has brought out the child in them.  They haven’t seen him for…”

“Nineteen years.”

“Maker.  Has it really been that long?”

“That’s what he said.”

Mia thinks for a moment as she watches her siblings goof around.  “Well, he was 13 at the time.  Maker.”  She looks over at Shea.  “He never mentioned the scar.”

“Mine or his?”

Mia is taken aback by the question.  “His.  I didn’t realize…”  Shea pushes her hair behind her ear revealing the scar on her face.  “Maker’s breath.  That looks painful.”

“It was at the time.”

“Do you mind if I ask…”

“How I got it?”

Mia grins.  “You both do that.”

“Do what?”

“Finish my sentences.”

“He yells at his men the way you just yelled at your siblings.”

Mia laughs.  “I can imagine.”

“I… uh… I got the scar during the attack on Haven.”

Mia places her hand on her chest and then on top of Shea’s on the table.  “I heard about that.  I’m not sure how accurate the stories were, but they say you stood before… that monster and…”

“That’s true.  I used myself as a distraction.  To save the people in Haven.  Namely…”  She looks over at Cullen as he lounges in a chair listening to them bicker about something.

“You must have really loved him to be willing to die for him.”

She nods.  “I had just learned it not long before.  It torn him up to let me go.  He still… in any case, that’s where most of my scars came from.”

Mia pats her hand.  “I don’t know why I was nervous to answer your question earlier.  Well, there was meeting you, of course.  You’re a big deal.  Famous. The Hero of Thedas.  Not to mention all your other titles.  But it was also seeing him again.  I sometimes feel guilty about the things he had to endure.”

“How so?”

“I was his biggest supporter when he wanted to join the templars.  I made sure he was ready.  Helped him train.  Made Branson and Rosalie help as well.  And then I started hearing stories.  Horrible things.  And he never wrote me.  I’m sure he’s mentioned how atrocious his letter writing skills are.  I tracked him down though.  I don’t know what happened that made him ‘disappear’ on us and I don’t want to know.  I’m just glad he’s alive and that he has finally found happiness.”

“I would leave it up to him whether he wants to tell you the whole story or not.  Though I’m certain he’ll want to spare you that.  His writing has greatly improved since we started writing each other.”

“I noticed that. The letter I received the other day was probably the longest letter he has even sent.”

Shea nods and nibbles at the cookie.  “Oh Mia.  This is fantastic!”

She smiles brightly.  “Thank you.”

The sit in silence for a while as they watch Branson tell some animated story.  Cullen looks over at her and he smiles.  He excuses himself and sits next to her on the bench.  He kisses the side of her neck.  “Talking about me?”

“Only a little.”  He grabs her cookie and takes a bite of it.  She narrows her eyes at him.  “You, ser, have a death wish.”

He motions to the basket on the table, “There’s a whole basket.”

Mia chuckles.  “Taking food from a pregnant woman?  You do have a death wish.”

He groans.  “Please don’t tell me your on her side.”

She nuzzles under his chin.  “We’re a united front, remember.”

He brushes his nose against hers.  “I think it’s you who needs to remember that.”

Mia sighs.  “You two are too sweet.  I’m going to get a tooth ache just looking at you.”

Cullen cups Shea’s face and smirks at his sister.  “Then don’t look.”  He plants a kiss on Shea, bold and passionate enough to make her blush.  She shoves against him and he chuckles.

“Don’t be crass.   I’m sure no one wants to see that.”

Mia waves her hand.  “Have at it.  If you need a room, you can use Branson’s.”

Branson growls.  “No, they can’t.”

Rosalie sits at the table across from Shea.  “Not that it would do anything.  She’s already knocked up.”

Mia looks up at Branson.  “Where’s Krissy and Noah?  They should be here for this.”

“At her mother’s.  Apparently, the old bird wanted to see her grandson.  Though we tried to tell her our long lost brother was coming to town with the Herald of Andraste.  To which she croaked,” He hunches over and pulls his lips in like he has no teeth.  He waves his finger in the air and makes his voice higher, “I don’t care if she’s the Right Hand of the Divine herself.  I want to spend time with my grandson.”  His voice returns to normal, “To which I said, ‘But she _is_ the Right Hand of the Divine.’  And she rattled on about how the Right Hand, the Inquisitor, and the Herald couldn’t be one person.  We could have argued until we were blue in the face and that senile old bat wouldn’t have listened.”

Rosalie looks over at Shea, “So, long, dramatic story short.  They’ll be back later tonight.”

Mia stands up suddenly.  “Are you hungry?  It’s almost lunch time.”

Cullen shakes his head, “We ate before we…”

Shea smiles.  “I could eat.”

Mia turns to the kitchen.  “Lunch it is!”

Branson sits across from Cullen.  “So, Martin, the blacksmith, was telling me you closed that rift up north.”

She nods.  “Not alone, of course.  But yes.  It’s closed.  Hopefully it’ll stay that way.”

Rosalie leans forward.  “You mean it could open again?”

“It’s unlikely, but we’ll have people keep an eye on it just in case.”

Shea reaches forward with her left hand to grab another cookie and Rosalie grabs it.  “Is this the… what’s it called?”

“The Anchor.  Or mark.  Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes.”

“And it’s safe?”

Cullen nods.  “She has complete control over it.  It’s harmless unless it’s activated.”

“But even then it only hurts demons.”

“It’s kind of… pretty.”

“You can touch it if you want.”

She releases her hand.  “I’m good.”

Branson holds out his hand.  “I’ll touch it if the offer stands.”

She lays her hand palm up in his.  He looks at it closely before poking it.  She winces slightly.  Only Cullen notices.  He leans in close to her ear as Branson inspects the mark.  “Does it hurt today?”

“You know how it is after closing rifts.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t let him poke at it.”

“It’s fine.  I don’t want them to be afraid of it.”

Seeing Branson touch it without any harm coming to him makes Rosalie braver.  She takes Shea’s hand once Branson is done.  Her touch is gentler than her brother’s.  The feather light touches are a welcome change from the poking.  Cullen kisses her cheek.  He stands and goes into the kitchen.

“Can I help with anything?”

Mia smiles.  “You’re a guest. You don’t have to help.”

“I want to.  It’s been a long time since we cooked together.”

She nods.  “Since before you left.”  She touches his face.  “I’ve missed having a sane person in the house.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m that sane, but I’ve missed you too.”

She hands him a knife and points to some vegetables.  He starts chopping them up.  “Have you set a date yet?”

“For?”

“The wedding, dummy.”

“Oh.  Uh.  Not yet.  We’ve haven’t really gotten the chance to talk about it.  The Inquisition takes up all of our time and most of our attention.”

“Well, let us know.  We want to be there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Mia looks over her shoulder.  “She’s lovely.”

He looks over his shoulder and watches Shea chat with his more lively siblings.  “Indeed she is.”

“I know you two are staying at the inn, but…”

He looks at her.  “But?”

“We… uh… have a room for you.”

“I don’t want to take someone else’s bed.”

“You misunderstand me.  It’s your room.  We… wanted you to have a place to stay.  If you ever came home.”

“Mia.”

“I know.  We shouldn’t have been hoping for that.  You chose a career that was for life, but it just didn’t feel right to build a house without a place for you.”

He doesn’t know how to feel about her statement.  He never imagined they’d include him when he would have most likely lived and died as a templar.  If his life had been different, that room might have been a reminder that he was never coming home.  He sets the knife down and touches her arm.  “I’ll have to talk to Shea about it.”

“Talk to me about what?”

“They have a room here for us, if we’d like to stay with them.”

She smiles at Mia.  “We’d love to.  Though you’ll need to go get our stuff later.”

He smiles at her.  He didn’t think he’d feel so happy to be spending that much time with his siblings.  He kisses her temple and goes back to cutting vegetables.  “I’ll go after lunch.  Maybe I’ll make Branson come with me.”

Mia sighs happily, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Could someone point me to the facilities?”

Rosalie jumps up from the table.  “Sure!  Follow me.”

Shea follows Rosalie down the hallway.  Branson turns in his seat to face the kitchen.  “So.  Now that she’s gone for a moment.  How are you feeling about becoming a dad?”

“I’m excited and terrified.”

“Sounds about right.”

Mia chuckles.  “I’m sure you’ll be a great father.”

“I hope so.  I’m worried about Shea though.”

“Why is that?”

He hesitates before answering.  He’s not sure how much he should tell them.  “She… doesn’t have the best family history.  I think she’ll be a great mother, but as we get closer, I worry that she’ll start second guessing herself.”

“Hey, I can say from experience that the same thing will happen to you.  Nothing is more gut wrenching and harrowing than standing outside that room and listening to the woman you love screaming obscenities at you and then having that tiny thing shoved into your arms afterward.  For a good long while, I was certain I would break him.  But he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.  I question myself every day.  Am I doing this right?  Will he look back on his life one day and realize that I was a horrible father?”

Mia butts in, “He would never think that about you. You are a wonderful father!  You worship that kid.”

“Damn right I do.  He’s smart and brave.  And boy can he laugh.  He got the best parts of both of us.”

“I’m assuming he got his smarts from your wife?”

Branson grins. “Oh ha ha.  You’d better hope your kid gets her looks.”

“I do.”

They all laugh and Rosalie comes bounding down the hall.  “What’s funny?  What did I miss?”

“I was just telling our brother that he better hope his kid gets her looks.”

She smirks, “He should be hoping that his kid is exactly like her.”

Cullen rolls his eyes.  “I often do.”

Mia looks over her shoulder as she cooks.  “That’s not nice you two.  Don’t you have work to do?  Just because we have guests doesn’t mean life comes to a standstill.”

They groan.  “We’re already going to have to clean up lunch and now we don’t get to hang out with our brother?”

“Yeah.  How is that fair?”

Cullen smiles at them.  “I’m not going anywhere for a few days.  Except to get our things from the inn.  I didn’t come here to disrupt your lives.”

“Those crops aren’t going to water or plant themselves.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes and goes out the front door.  Branson stands.  “I’ll go with you to get your stuff.  I’ve been outnumbered for far too long.  Plus, we can pick Krissy and Noah up on the way back.”

“Do happen to have a place for my horse?  She wasn’t built for manual labor.”

Branson nods.  “I’ll take care of her.  Let us know when lunch is ready.  I’m starving.”

Mia laughs.  “You are always starving.”

He chuckles and heads outside.  Shea comes strolling down the hallway.  “Where’d they go?”

“Mia put them to work.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Mia waves her hand.  “No.  You’re a guest even more than Cullen is.  You just kick up your feet and relax.”

She chuckles.  “Don’t have to tell me twice.”  She sits back down at the dining table.  She leans back on the table and watches them work.  She chuckles again.  “You know, sweetheart.  For all your talk, I have never actually seen you cook anything.”

Mia smacks him.  “You don’t cook for her?”

He rubs the back of his head.  “I have never had the opportunity.  We have people who cook for us in Skyhold.”

Mia wipes her hands on a towel.  “I need to go get a chicken.”

Cullen looks around the kitchen.  “What are you making exactly?”

“Never you mind.  Keep chopping.”

“So, much for being a guest.”  She pats him on the back and goes out the front door.  Shea stands and wraps her arms around his waist as he chops.  He pauses briefly to look back at her.  “Feeling alright?”

“Yep.”

“You were gone a while.”

“I had to pee.”  Her eyes shift towards the door and then back to him.  He sets the knife down and turns in her arms.  “The mark flared while I was in there.  I wanted to make sure it was fully calm before coming back out.”

He kisses her forehead.  “I told you they shouldn’t have poked at it.”

“That’s not how the mark works.  You know that.”

“Was it bad?”

“These walls aren’t exactly thick.  If it were bad, you would have heard me.”

“Very true.  You seem to be getting along well with everyone.”

“It appears that way.  Though Rosalie and Branson seem to be a little… formal?  I’m trying not to talk about Inquisition related things to try to distance myself from all the titles, but I’m not sure what else to talk about.”

“They should get it out of their system soon enough.”  He turns back to his chopping.  “Is she cooking for an army?  Why do we need so many vegetables?”

“I could take over if you want.”

He chuckles.  “Mia would throw a fit if I let you do that.”

She sits back down at the table.  “Then I guess I’ll just have to sit here and admire the view while you work.”

He turns and points the knife at her.  “No ogling while my family is here.”

“Well, they aren’t here now.  So, I’ll ogle all I want.”  She waits from him to turn back to his work.  She stands and slinks up behind him.  She presses up on her toes to breathe into his ear.  “Furthermore.  You are to be my husband.  I’ll stare and grab,” She grabs his ass with both hands, “as much as I want.  Whenever I want.”  He sets the knife down and presses his palms into the counter.  She gives him a little smack before turning away from him.  She hears him whimper as she goes back to her spot at the table.  “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

He swallows hard and squeezes his eyes closed.  “Damn it.”

She smirks and returns to his back.  She doesn’t know what has possessed her to be so wanton towards him.  Especially when his siblings could return at any moment.  She presses herself against his back.  She pulls something from her pocket and shoves it in his.  She runs her hand up the length of his firmness before plopping into a chair in the living room.  She smiles to herself knowing full well he’d never be able to hide himself in this outfit.  Those black pants were far too tight for that.

He slowly reaches into his pocket to find out what she gave him.  She bites her lip and watches with smirking eyes.  His knees nearly give out and a deep moan rolls out of him when he sees that she has given him her smalls.  His whole body throbs.  He looks back at her over his shoulder.  She cocks an eyebrow at him while she twirls a strand of her hair.  He exhales in a huff.  _How the hell am I supposed to focus on chipping these damn vegetables when she’s sitting over there… Maker’s breath.  This woman is going to be the death of me._

He turns back towards the counter and tries to will his erection to subside.  Shea takes a quick look out the front door.  The only person she can see is Mia standing the barn cleaning feathers off a chicken.  She closes the front door.  His ears twitch at the clicking sound it makes.  Her footsteps alert him to her approach.  She takes a quick look out the kitchen window.  Branson is fairly far away.  He and the brown horse work to plow a field.  She doesn’t know where Rosalie could be.

She wraps her arms around him.  “Need some help?”

He whines, “Shea.  My family is…”

“Busy outside.”

“They could come back in at any moment.”

She slides her hands down his chest.  “I know you can be fast.”

“I’m supposed to be chopping these…”  Her hand slides into his waistbands.  Her fingers stroking along his length.  “Fuck.”  His head hangs forward and his fingers curl on the counter.  She grips, strokes, and twists her hand.  She spreads the arousal leaking from his tip along his shaft to aid her movements.  His breath hitches and he fights to control the noises that threaten to spring out of him.  She continues her efforts while shifting around to lean on the counter.  She watches him sweat and bite his lip.  His eyes are squeezed closed.

“Lunch will be ready in an hour!  Be sure to wash up first!”  Mia’s voice sends chills up his spine.  He is certain she’s going to walk in that door any second.  She looks out the window to see Branson wave in the direction of the house.

She chuckles.  “I suggest you stop holding back or she’s going to walk in on me with my hand down your pants.”

His resolve breaks.  He grunts and moans.  He thrusts himself into her hand.  She tightens her grip and he moans with no restraint.  If Mia is anywhere close to the house, she’ll hear him.  With a few more frim tugs, the veins in his neck bulge and his grabs her wrist to still her hand.  He thrusts up and groans her name.  Waves wash over him and his breath gets caught in his chest.  He grabs the back of her head and pulls her lips to his.  The sounds of his end muffled by her mouth.  Once his is completely finished, she pulls her hand out of his pants.  He trembles and looks over at her with molten eyes.  She licks his spend from her hand and heads towards the hallway.  “That was for what you did to me in that tavern in Orlais.”  He groans as she disappears down the hall.

He checks himself to make sure there is no evidence of what she had just done to him, seeing nothing but his slowly fading erection.  He steps closer to the counter.  He wipes the sweat from his brow and runs his fingers through his hair.  He quickly resumes his work as the front door opens.  “You’re not done yet?”

“I’m just a little out of practice.  That’s all.”

She smirks.  “And it has nothing to do with the noises I heard outside the door.”  He groans and she laughs.  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of little brother.  I knew that might be a danger if I left you alone long enough.”

“Maker’s breath, Mia.  We’re not animals.”

“No, but I’ve seen how she looks at you.  She can’t help it, I think.  Krissy is the same way with Branson.  Honestly, I’m surprised they don’t have more kids by now.”

“Do I really need to know that?”

She laughs.  “Still the prude then?”

“I’m not nor have I ever been a prude.  I just think there are some things people shouldn’t talk about.  Especially with their sister.”

“Cullen I should remind you that I had to have _the talk_ with both Branson and Rosalie.  I’m used to this stuff.”

“Well, I’m not.”

She chuckles as she rubs seasoning over the chicken.  “Not need to get testy.”

He groans and rolls his eyes.  “You are just was bad as Bull.”

“Who’s Bull?”

“The Iron Bull.  He’s our friend and a member of the Inquisition.  Along with his mercenary band.”

“That’s an odd name.”

“He picked it.  They don’t get names under the Qun.”

She gasps.  “He’s Qunari?”

“Yes, but he’s a good man.  He gave up his life under the Qun to save his men.  He’s also my best friend.”

“You must keep some strange company.”

“We’ll have to share some stories.  We’ve got a wide variety of people.”

Shea comes back in and leans on the counter.  She winks at him and he rolls his eyes.  “What are we talking about?”

“I was telling her about some of our friends.”

“Which one?”

“Well, she made a bad pun.”

“Ah.  So, Bull then.”

Rosalie comes in the front door and pats Shea on the back as she passes.  Shea laughs knowing exactly what the pat was for.  Mia smirks.  “Guess I wasn’t the only one to hear you.”

He sets the knife of the counter.  “I’m done and going to get some air.”

Shea moves to stop him.  “Aw.  Don’t be like that.” She wraps her arms around his waist and looks up at him.  She sticks out her lover lip.  “Don’t be all grumpy.”

“I’m not being grumpy.”

“Yes, you are.  You’ve got that crease between your eyes.”  She presses up on her toes.  “Come on.  You know you had fun.”

He smirks.  “Payback’s a bitch, my love.”  He kisses her and heads out the door.

She grins and sits at the dining table.  Mia throws the vegetables in the pan with the chicken and puts it in the oven.  “You two are cute together.”

“Glad you think so.”

“Seriously.  It’s like you were made for each other.”

She smiles brightly.  “I think that all the time.”

“You’re a noble in the Free Marches, right?”

“In Ostwick, yes.  Though I was destined for the templars before all this Herald of Andraste business.”

Mia sits at the dining table as the chicken bakes.  “Really?  What made you want to join The Order?”

“It was either that or become a Chantry sister.  I have… had two older brothers.  As the third born, it was promised to the Chantry from birth.  My family used to be pretty famous among the templars.  That ended after the conclave.”

“You sound so… matter of fact about it.  I’m sure you lost some family members there.  Like your brother?”

She scoffs.  “No.  He didn’t die at the conclave.  I did lose relatives, but after everything that’s happened… Cullen probably doesn’t think I should mention my family history.  And it may seem a little cold, but I don’t feel connected to them anymore.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being so mad at their family that they would just cut them out.  My brother has done some things I’m sure he regrets…”

“Your brother didn’t try to kill you.”

“Oh.”

Shea sighs.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.  And in all fairness, he didn’t try to kill just me.  He tried to kill Cullen too.  I had to execute him.  That’s how I became the heir to Ostwick.  I’m just hoping Brandon finds someone to marry and have kids with. I have no desire to rule a whole city-state.”

“Your brother tried to kill Cullen?”

She nods.  “Half-brother.  With blood magic.  But he was in no danger.  I made sure of it.”

“That must have been hard.”

“It probably should have been.  But by then I knew I loved him and the man I executed wasn’t the man I grew up with.  I didn’t know that person.  The person I knew was sweet and emotional.  My closest ally.  I mourned for that person and not the man who died in a dungeon.”

Mia touches her arm.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Shea pats her hand.  “It’s alright.  You had no way of knowing.  But I want you to know that I am nothing like the members of my family.  It’s a mold I am fighting to break.  In comparison, I think I’m doing a bang up job so far.”

“You mentioned blood magic.  Your half-brother was a mage?”

“I didn’t know it until that moment, but yes.”

“Do mages run in your family?”

“The Trevelyans?  No.  Emeric’s mother was from Tevinter.  My birth mother is a Dalish mage, but that’s not how I became one.  For the first 20 years of my life, I wasn’t.  I was trained to be a templar from the day I could hold a sword.  I prefer two handed weapons.  Great axes, to be specific.  But this whole mage thing is a very recent development.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Nor would you.  No one really understands it and it appears to be something that hasn’t been done since before the fall of the Elven Empire.”

Mia looks at out the window and sees Cullen out in the field with Branson.  She looks back to Shea.  “Your family.  They aren’t going to be a danger to him are they?”

“No!  Of course not.  Most of them are dead.  My half-brother, Brandon, is the Teyrn of Ostwick.  He’s changed a lot from the boy I used to know.  He’s helped us quite a bit.  Though I wouldn’t describe us as close, I know he harbors no ill will towards me.”

Mia sighs.  “I like you, Shea.  I really do.  But I can’t help being an overbearing older sister.  I always have been and I always will be.  He’s been through enough hardships in his life.”

“I think I know that better than anyone.”

“I’m sure you do.  I just… I worry about him.  I want him to be happy and safe.  The how, where, and who is not what’s important to me.  I’m not saying you can’t be that for him.  The way his letters have evolved over the years is evidence of that.  But if you can spare him…”

“I don’t want him hurt any more than you do.”

Mia nods.  “I know.  And I can see that.  I won’t say anymore on the subject.  I just wanted you to know that his happiness comes first for me.  And if you and your family drama can’t give him that.  Let him find someone who will.”

Shea has to fight her urge to explode.  Mia means well, but she has no idea what he needs.  No one does.  She may not have seen him at his lowest, but she helped build him back up.  He has helped her do that same.  It was a little late to step away.  Shea rubs her stomach and looks out the window.  Cullen’s arm is draped over Branson’s shoulders as the walk back towards the house, leading the horse.  “I understand.”

“Good.  Then we don’t need to talk about that anymore.”

Shea stands.  “If you’ll excuse me.  I need to get a little exercise before lunch.”

“Certainly!  It won’t take much longer.”

Shea heads out the front door.  Cullen rounds the corner of the house as she disappears on the far side of the barn.  He exchanges looks with his brother.  They grimace and nod.  “Mia.”

“I’ll go scold our sister.  You go find your woman.”  Branson ties the horse up next to a trough of water before heading into the house.  Rosalie rushes to him from the side of the house.

“Mia gave her the ‘his happiness is more important than anything’ speech after they talked about her family a little bit.”  He groans.  “From what I heard, I can tell she’s not like her family, but Mia laid into her pretty hard.  I would have gone in there, but I only would have made the whole thing a lot worse.”

He pats her arm.  “Thanks for bringing me up to speed.  She probably wouldn’t have mentioned it in order to spare me.”

Rosalie nods.  “You are happy.  I can see it.  And you make her happy.  So, just ignore Mia.  Branson and I have your backs.”

“Thank you.”  She gives him a brief hug before rushing into the house to join Branson in his scolding.

Cullen rounds the barn and spots Shea on a large rock by the river.  Her booted feet dangle above the water and he thinks if she could get them off on her own, she’d have her toes in the water.  Cullen plops down next to her.  “I hear Mia lectured you.”

“Not the word I’d use.  She… expressed her concern.  I knew I shouldn’t have talked about my family.  It’s so very different from yours.”

“Mia has always been a little overprotective.  Especially after my parents died.  I could sense it even in her letters.”

“She means well.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders.  “Did she upset you?”

“A little.  But I agree with her.  And that’s the part I’m struggling with.”

“Agree with her how exactly?”

She sighs.  “She said that I can’t keep my family drama from hurting you or that if I couldn’t keep you safe and happy that I should let someone else do it.  I know that I make you happy.  But I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“Leave my safety up to me.  She doesn’t know everything you’ve done for me.  She’s only heard secondhand stories about you’ve done for the world.  And even though she is my sister, you come first.  You and our child.  I wouldn’t change anything and I wouldn’t be here as I am without your efforts.”

“How much should we tell them?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of their business.  But I’m sure we’ll be telling tales of our adventures… well… your adventures.  I’ll give you some sort of signal if it’s something we shouldn’t talk about.  My time with the templars is definitely something they don’t need to hear.  They all might tie me up so I can’t leave if they knew the whole truth.”

She chuckles.  “If it comes to that, I’ll set you free and we can run off together.”

He scoots closer to her and runs his nose up the side of her face.  “I like that sound of that.”

She smiles.  “I’m sure lunch will be ready soon.  We should probably head back in.”

He hugs her to his chest.  “I’m content to just sit here for a while longer.  I’m sure someone will let us know when it’s time.”

They sit there together watching the water pass lazily by them.  She curls up next to him and sighs.  “I love this.”

“What?”

“Sitting here.  Enjoying the peace and quiet.  It’s something I could get used to.”

“Are you saying that country life suits you?”

“Maybe a little.  I would miss our friends constantly buzzing around and having easy access to a tavern, but this is nice.   Blissful solitude.”

“With those three, it’s hard to say how long this will last.  They’ll miss us eventually.”

“And that’s ok too.”

They here a whistle and he chuckles. “Speaking of…”  He stands up and reaches down to help her up.  They walk hand in hand back to the house.  “Shea.  Promise me that if they do anything else to upset you that you will let me know.”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep those comments coming! They really make my day as I fight through finals.
> 
> UPDATED July 28, 2018


	19. Hey, Soul Sister

Lunch, though delicious, is awkward.  Cullen does most of the talking.  Nineteen years is a lot of ground to cover.  The siblings talk about growing up both together and apart.  Cullen regaling them with happier times with the templars.  Telling jokes about men who have been dead and gone a long time now.  It is bittersweet for him to talk about his old friends, but it is better than letting them know the true horrors he’s seen and done.  It isn’t lost on him that she is staying quiet, but he doesn’t pressure her to speak.  He enjoys hearing stories about their lives without him.

He often wondered about them when he was having a bad day in the circle.  He is comforted now to know that they had a happy life despite losing their parents during the Blight.  Their lives are definitely ordinary by comparison and he is pleased to know that the chaos of the world has left them mostly unscathed.  No mage or templars bothering them.  The demons were far enough away that they never had to fight.  Their biggest concerns dealing with growing crops and selling them when they needed other supplies.

It doesn’t take long for him to settle in as if he were never gone.   Being teased by them and joking about this or that.  The subject of chess arises.  Branson and Rosalie work to clean up lunch as Mia goes to dig out the board and pieces.  Shea stands and drifts into the living room.  The hard bench of the dining table making her ache for something softer.  Cullen watches her plop into a chair and toy with the ends of her hair.  He wants to know her thoughts more than he wants to show up his siblings with his superior skills of tactics and strategy.

He walks to stand her behind her.  He squeezes her shoulders and she smiles up at him.  “You’ve been quiet.”

“I don’t really have anything to say.  You were catching up.  When you get to the parts that I’m in, I’ll interject more.”

“You should play with us.”

She smirks.  “I would hate to embarrass you in front of your siblings.”

He laughs.  “I would like to see you try.”

“I seem to recall winning our last match.”

“And a rematch is long overdue.”

She sighs.  “Alright.  I’ll let you get warmed up and then I’ll join you.”  She bends forward and tugs at the laces on her boots.  She grumbles and sits back in the chair.

“Would you like some assistance, my love?”  He walks around the chair and kneels in front of her.  He deftly unlaces her boots and pulls them and her socks from her feet.  She exhales in relief as her swollen aching feet are freed from their leather cage.  He rubs her feet and she stifles the moans that try to roll up.  He chuckles.  He sets her feet down and moves closer to her.  “Better?”

“Much.”

“I’ve got the board!  Who’s first?”

Cullen kisses her forehead and stands.  “I’ll have the first match.”

Branson laughs.  “Yes!  Let’s do this!”

The siblings gather around the dining table and begin their game.  First it’s Cullen versus Branson.  Shea reclines in the chair watching them laughing and competing against each other.  _Is this what a real family looks like?_ She is taken back to her childhood.  She tries to find moments like this.  Moments of bonding and laughter.  They trained together for a while, but that was work.  She had fun, sure, but she was being groomed for a life of service.  Of violence.  A life without freedom and choice.  She still feels that way.  She looks down at her marked hand.  The accident that put it there forever burned in her mind now that the memories had been returned to her. 

She might have lead a life of privilege, but as she struggles to remember something good, she realizes that she has experienced things that people can only dream.  She would kill to have this be her childhood.  Parents who loved her, would sacrifice their lives for her.  Siblings who loved her no matter what she had done or how long she had been away.  She bites her lip as jealousy floods her system.  It’s not an emotion she is used to feeling, especially when aimed at the man she loves.  She quietly stands.  She needs to let off some steam and that means hitting something.  He wouldn’t approve of this, naturally.  She’s out of practice, but she relishes the idea of her muscles burning in that way and working them the way she used to.

Her bare feet hide her exit.  She eases the front door open and slips out into the little courtyard.  She closes the door quietly behind her and heads for the wagon, where she knows his sword is stashed.  She would sharpen it when she was done to hide that she used it to hit a tree or something.  She pauses in the barn when she spots a wood cutting axe hanging on the wall.  She smirks and grabs it.  The blade is very sharp, but it looks old.  She runs her fingers along the worn wooden handle.  _A strong tool.  I wonder how long it’s been in the family._   She sighs and hangs it back on the wall.  She didn’t want to risk breaking something that might be some kind of heirloom.  Cullen’s horse whinnies at her.

She goes over to the animal and strokes its mane.  “Feeling a little out of place?”  The mare nudges her with her nose.  “Yeah me too.”  She looks back towards the house.  Even from here, she can hear the laughter coming from inside.  She looks back at his horse.  The temptation to throw caution to the wind and just put the horse’s gear on and go riding is strong.  She rests her hand on her stomach.  _No.  I should just stick to hitting something._   She gives the horse a few final pets before going back to the wagon.  She reaches into the back and pulls on the blanket that covers his weapons.  She reaches for the sword.  She pulls it from its scabbard and leaves the barn.

The metal gleams in the bright spring sun.  She walks around the outside of the barn looking for a tree to hit.  That’s when she spots the axe in a stump towards the back of the barn.  A stack of cut logs are stacked against the barn wall and a pile of raw logs lay in a large pile.  She quickly returns the sword to its hiding spot and rushes to the stomp.  This axe looks newer, sturdier.  She grips it handle and yanks it out of the stomp.  She smiles at its heft.  The blade has been freshly sharpened.  She picks up a raw log and stands it in the center of the stomp.  She has seen Blackwall do this a hundred times.  Her hands automatically go to the proper two handed grip.  One near the head of the axe and one near the base.

She steps back and raises the axe over her head.  She slides her hands together as she brings it down.  The wood splits smoothly down the center.  She smiles as the axe digs into the stomp.  She is happy to see that her muscles still have power after not using them for so long.  She sets the halves on the stomp and continues swinging away.

She wipes sweat from her brow as she piles piece after piece on the cut pile.  She gets a few logs done before his voice startles her.

“What are you doing?”

She jumps.  “Maker’s breath!”  She turns to face him.  “Don’t startle me like that.”

Her favorite grin crosses his face.  “Getting in a little manual labor?”

She shrugs.  “I saw an axe and couldn’t resist.”

He takes the axe out of her hands and swings it lazily down on the piece of wood.  The axe digs in and he takes her hand.  “No more work.”

“I wasn’t working.  I just…”

“What?”

“It’s… nothing.  Let’s just go back in.”  She starts to walk and he pulls on her hand.

“Shea?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  I just... it’s not a big deal.”

“Alright.  I trust you’ll tell what’s bothering you when you’re ready.  Especially since I haven’t seen that desire you have to hit something in a long time.”  She pushes her hair behind her ear.  “I know you’re not helpless.”

“I never said…”

“I know you didn’t.  That was more a response to my own thoughts.  I was thinking that you probably shouldn’t be chopping wood in your state.”

She nods.  “I’m not helpless.”

“Right.  But this is our chance to relax until we have to go back to Skyhold and deal with the issues with Ferelden.  And whatever else is begging for our attention.  If you feel the need to hit something again, go off somewhere and use your magic.”

“It’s not the same.  The feel of a something heavy in your hands.  The vibrations in your arms as it makes contact.  The soreness in your muscles telling you that you worked hard.”

He pulls her in and wraps his arms around her waist.  He rests his hands on the small of her back.  “You might be a mage now, but you are a warrior at heart.”

“That I am.”

He brushes strands of hair from her face.  “Once the baby comes and you’re fit to start training again, we’re going to have to get you back in fighting shape.”  She closes her eyes and hums.  “Like that idea, do you?”

“And you better not go easy on me, Commander.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.  The Inquisitor is an example to her troops.  We mustn’t let them think you’ve gone soft.”

“Perish the thought.”

He rest his forehead against hers.  “Come on, love.  You’ve been challenged.”

“By?”

“Me.”

She smirks.  “Set it up, Commander.  I do hope I don’t embarrass you in front of your family.”

***

Shea wants desperately to go with Cullen and Branson to get their things.  Hell, she’d rather just go alone with him.  Being left alone with his sisters is not something she is looking forward to.  To make matters worse, at least in her eyes, they are bringing back two more strangers.  Though one of them is child and the other was an outsider to this tight knit clan at one time.  Maybe Shea can get some advice on how to break through.  To feel connected to them.  To make them stop treating her with kid gloves, like a noble or a savior.

She leans against a fence post watching them head back into town.  There were hours of day light left and Branson wanted to pick them well before it was dark so that they would actually get to meet Noah before he passed out.  Rosalie is leaning next to her.  She looks over at Shea.  “So.  Want to get away from the house for a bit?”

“Sure.  Did you have something in mind?”

She looks down at Shea’s bare feet.  “Possibly.  You might need shoes though.”

“I’ll need help with them.”  She rests her hand on her stomach.  “This thing gets in the way.”

“I don’t mind helping.  I usually helped Krissy when Branson was off in the fields or in town.  Mia helped too, of course.  But I’m sensing a little… not hostility exactly, but she seems to be in protector mode, which means more integration if you two are left alone.”

“I can handle integration.  I’m just afraid of what her opinion of me will be once she has her answers.  Cullen might say that he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of me, but I know he does.  You all mean the world to him and reconnecting as you have today won’t exactly make things easier if she decides I’m not right for him.”

Rosalie pats her arm and pushes off the fence.  “Bah.  Mia’s harmless.  Mostly.  She’s never had an easy time controlling Cullen because of how close they are in age and him having goals at an early age that would take him away from us.  She knew since he was 8 that he wanted to be a templar, after all.  And I think you know how stubborn he can be when he sets his mind to something.”

Shea smirks.  “I don’t know.  I can be pretty persuasive.”

Rosalie laughs.  “They didn’t make you his boss for nothing.  I haven’t gotten the chance to get to know you that well, but from my first impression, I bet you have all of them wrapped around your little finger.”

Shea follows Rosalie into the house.  Mia is standing in the kitchen preparing dinner.  Shea sits in the chair she has claimed for herself and Rosalie helps her put her boots back on.  Mia turns from her task and faces them.  “Headed somewhere?”

Rosalie beams at her sister.  “I thought Shea might like to walk around a little bit.  Give her a tour since we haven’t done that yet.”

Mia nods.  “That’s a good idea.  Just be sure to be back when the boys return.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes.  “We’ll keep an eye out for them.”  She grabs Shea’s arm and drags her out of the house.  “A little advice.  If you don’t want her to talk your ear off when you’re trying to leave, make your goodbyes quick.  Or come up with an urgent task that you need to head off to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They walk along the river and past the fields.  The boundary of their land is clearly marked by fences that keep the sheep from running away.  It isn’t a huge plot, but it suits them.  Rosalie points to a flat plot in the corner of the fenced area.  “That’s where Branson wants to build his house.  Close enough to still be useful, but far enough away that we can’t easily bother his little family.”

“When does he want to do that?”

“He’s been planning it since Krissy got pregnant.  But saving money for the supplies he’ll need to have shipped in takes time.  He’s been doing odd jobs around town to earn some extra coin.  But there’s not a lot of lucrative work in South Reach and he doesn’t like being away from them too long.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar.”

“How so?”

“Cullen hates it when I have to travel and he has to stay in Skyhold.  It’s probably the number one reason he’s so good at writing letters now.”

Rosalie chuckles.  “Good might be a little generous.”

“Maybe.  I always found it a little odd that he could write lengthy and super detailed reports, but couldn’t write a personal letter.  You have to admit he has improved.”

“Definitely.  It went from, ‘I’m alive.  Guess who is Knight-Captain in Kirkwall?’ To ‘I met this woman and blah blah blah.’  I think his last letter was half a page, which is a record.”

“He wrote you about me?”

“Technically, he wrote Mia, but she let us read them.  Reading the letters and then seeing him with you, I can see how much he loves you.  For what it’s worth, I whole heartedly approve.”

Shea smiles at her.  “Thank you.”

They climb a little hill and Rosalie plops down in the wild grass.  Shea lowers herself down next to her.  “This is my favorite spot.”  She points behind her.  “You can just make out the town.  It’s quiet.  And far enough away that they can’t see me up here.”

“It is quite lovely.”

“Probably doesn’t compare to the views you’ve seen.”

“I have seen a lot of beautiful places.  And some not so pleasant places.  But I think one of my favorites has to be… the Forbidden Oasis in Western Orlais.  The desert is fucking terrible.  It’s cold year round and there’s all that sand, but it’s worth it to stand in that warm pool of water staring up at that waterfall.”

Rosalie lays back in the grass and hums.  “That does sound lovely.  I’ve always wanted to see the world.  But I’ve never been out of Ferelden.”

“Maybe you could come visit us at Skyhold when things have calmed down some more.  Oooh.  Even better, I need to go to Val Royeaux soon.  Now, I can’t make any promises, but maybe I could convince Cullen to let me bring you with me.”

“Really?  I’ve heard so many things about Orlais.  None of them good, mind you.  But I hear that city is beautiful.”

“It is.  It’s actually where Cullen purposed.  I could walk right to the very spot.  And if we’re shopping while we’re there, then I will have to get Dorian to come with us.  Maybe even Vivienne.”  She looks over at her, “How would you feel about travelling with a bunch of mages?”

She shrugs.  “I’ve never really met any mages.  We’re pretty far removed down here.”

“You know I’m a mage.  Right?”

“Well, yeah.  But I can’t really pass judgement on you or any mage.  The whole war thing was dumb, but I get why they rebelled.  Don’t tell Cullen I said that.  As a templar, I’m sure he thinks they were unjustified.”

“You’d be surprised.  And he’s not a templar anymore.  He gave up that life when he joined the Inquisition.”  Rosalie falls silent for a moment.  Shea lays back on the grass next to her.  She isn’t sure if it is their age or something else, but Shea feels a connection to Rosalie.  “Rosie?”

“Yes?”

“How old are you?  If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Only if you’ll tell me in return.”

“Deal.”

“I’m almost 26.  You?”

“I’ll be 22 this year.”

“Wow.  You’ve had to go through a lot for someone so young.  I can’t really say much.  Honestly, I’ve been having a hard time with Cullen being here.”

Shea looks over at her.  She is staring up at the sky.  “Why is that?”

“I was 7 when he left home to join the templars.  I didn’t really know what that meant then.  So, the vast majority of my life he’s been this faint memory.  The same goes for Branson too, but the three of them are closer in age than I am.  I mean don’t get me wrong, I love him.  But I don’t really know him.”

“I had no idea.”

“I’m a terrific actress when I need to be.  He probably sees me as his kid sister still.  Spending time with him today leads me to believe that he is a very different person than the boy I knew.”

Shea scoffs.  “I completely understand that feeling.”

“Your half-brother?  The one you had to execute?”

She nods.  “My other half-brother too for that matter.  Not to the same extreme as Emeric, but a lot of things have changed since I left home.  Most of them aren’t good changes either.  Ever feel like you know without a shadow of a doubt that you know who someone is, only to be completely and utterly wrong?”

“It might surprise you that my answer is yes.  It’s not a family member or anything like that.  But I had this… friend.  I thought I knew everything about them.  I trusted them without question.  Had certain things not come to light when they did, I might have been… that’s water under the bridge now though.”

“I get the feeling this _friend_ was more of a lover.”

“He said you were good at reading people.  Yes.  He was.  A stupid, childish mistake.  One that could have easily been a lifelong mistake.”

“You were going to marry him?”

“It felt like it was heading in that direction.  He was stunningly handsome.  Exotic.  Suave.  Rich.  He’d bring me gifts from far off places, but would never say where.  Which probably should have been my first clue something was off about him, but young love is blind.  Thankfully Mia and Branson caught me trying to runaway one night, because not long after that I found out he was a slaver.”

“Holy shit!  How’d you figure that out?”

“A wanted poster from Denerim was posted in the tavern.  I spent a lot of time there.  Waiting for him mostly.  I never got the whole story.  But my eyes were opened when I saw it.  Everything made sense suddenly.  My teenage infatuation quickly faded.  I was angry.  He wanted to bring me into that world.  I couldn’t have that.  I am very against slavery.  Most people from Ferelden are.  Goes back to that whole being taken over by Orlais thing I think.  So, I wrote a letter and told them of my involvement with him.  Soldiers showed up not long after and I volunteered to be used as bait.”

“What happened after that?”

“Oh he showed up with some trinket he had no doubt taken from some poor soul.  We got a room, as was our custom, and the soldiers were waiting for him.  They arrested him and carted him off.  He’s either dead or rotting in a prison somewhere.  Good riddance I say.”

“Does anyone know about this?”

“Not a soul.  We have a tradition in this family of keeping our private bad stuff away from the others.  Which is why none of us pry into Cullen’s time with the templars.  It’s probably not the healthiest thing to do.  The reward money I got paid for the barn and the horse.  I gave the soldiers the gifts he had given me.  I don’t really care what they did with them, but I hope that some of them found their way back to their proper owners.”

“And they didn’t ask where the money came from?”

“I think they knew in a way, but like I said, it was private.”  She sighs.  “It feels good to actually tell someone this.  Someone who gets it.”

“I don’t think you’ll find anyone in all of Thedas who gets that as much as I do.”

“It has to be worse when it’s family.”

“I won’t belittle your pain by comparing it to mine.”

“It’s not comparing it.  It’s totally different.  Family is supposed to be there for you no matter what.  I can’t even imagine what that must have done to you.  To see that the person you thought you knew was not only different, but a blood mage and attempted murderer.”

Shea looks up at the sky.  This had to be what she felt in Rosalie.  A kindred spirit.  Someone who actually understands what she is going through.  “When… when you’ve got time to listen to me mope and whine about all my family shit, it would be nice to talk about it with someone who won’t judge me.”

Rosalie looks over at her.  “All your family shit?  So, it’s not just your half-brother?”

“It’s pretty much all of them.”

“Damn.  Yeah.  I’m available whenever you want to unload.  Judgement free, I promise.”

“Thanks.”

Rosalie sits up.  “Now, enough with all this depressing shit for right now.  We came up here to escape.  What does Shea Trevelyan do to have fun or blow off some steam?”

She laughs.  “I used to spar or go off on some kind of adventure.”  She motions to her bump.  “Which isn’t really possible right now.  Especially not when my loving fiancé watches me like a hawk.”

“And I go dancing.  But that’s not really possibly here.  I’d have to go into town for that and even then I’m usually dancing by myself or with whatever musician is there.”  Shea smirks.  “What?”

“I just think it’s funny that someone from Cullen’s family enjoys dancing when he hates it.  He’s great at it, though he claims not to know how.”

“He can dance?!”

“Yep.”

“Oh man!  I would love to see that!”

“Maybe I’ll drag him along to Val Royeaux when we go and make him dance.”

“That would be great!  But that doesn’t solve our problem right now.”

Shea nibbles on her lip.  She has an idea, but she is certain the other Rutherfords, especially hers, would not approve of it.  Though Rosalie seems to be the rebellious one of the group.  She opts to save that for another day.  She sits up and sees the river rolling along at the base of the hill.  Another idea comes to her, one that might be frowned upon, but it was much safer than her previous idea.  “How do you feel about ice skating in the middle of spring?”

Rosalie gasps.  “Oh, I love the way you think!”  She hops up off the ground and helps Shea stand.  “Can you just imagine the look on their faces if we were to slide right up the river when they get back?”  They walk down the hill.  They stop at the river’s edge.  “So, you can really do this without a staff?”

Shea cracks her knuckles and grins.  “You bet.  Watch this.”  Shea summons the magic into her hands and aims the freezing air at the water.  It crackles and hardens as the water mixes with her magic.  The surface of the water freezes solid.  It is smooth as glass and thick.  Rosalie claps her hands beside her.  “Hold up your foot.”  Rosalie grabs her ankle and places her hand on Shea’s shoulder for balance.  Shea runs her hand along the bottom of her shoe and a blade of ice forms under her fingers.  Rosalie quickly switches feet and has to hold Shea for balance.  Her places a blade of ice on her other shoe.  Rosalie takes hesitant steps towards the magic rink.  Shea puts blades on her own feet without even touching the soles of her boots.  She takes Rosalie’s hand as they shuffle onto the ice.

They both nearly slip.  But they brace against each other.  Their laughter rings out loudly.  Once they get their footing, they glide along the ice with ease.  As if they had been skating all their lives.  They lose track of time.  Rosalie nearly falls on her ass when she spots the wagon.  “Shit!  We’ll never make it back before them!”

“Never say never, my friend.”  She summons her magic.  “Grab hold of me and whatever you do don’t let go.” Rosalie wraps her arms tightly around Shea’s shoulders.  Shea sends a blast of freezing air down the river freezing the length of it as far as her magic with reach.  “Does that look like it reaches to all the way?”

Rosalie peeks over her shoulder.  “I’d say so.”

“Alright.  Hang on tight.”  Rosalie’s grips tightens around her.  Shea braces she makeshift skates on the ice.  She’d had to time this just right or they’d end up wet.  Which might actually be funny, but it could also seriously hurt them if she lost control.  She’s off in a flash.  Using her magic to propel them forward.  The ice making her Fade step faster than she’s ever gone before.  She skids to a stop at the edge of the ice.  The fall back on the ice and instantly start laughing.  Even with her eyes closed, she can feel his eyes.  She sits up and he’s him standing right next to them on the bank.  “Hello, sweetheart!  Have a nice trip into town?”

He wants to be mad at her for being so reckless, especially with his foolish, giggling sister, but it’s the happiest he has seen her all day and he won’t take it from her.  “Mia’s going to kill you if you track water into the house.”

“Don’t worry.  I’ve got magic.”  She wiggles her fingers in the air as Dorian would.

He laughs loudly and steps onto the ice to help her up.  She melts the blades on her feet.  Rosalie hops up and holds up her foot.  Shea melts both her blades and Rosalie skips over to Cullen.  She pokes him in the chest.  “If you ever leave her, I’m coming to find you to smack you as hard as I can in the head.”

He blinks at her.  She gives him a peck on the cheek before skipping towards the house.  “What was that about?”

Shea leads him off the frozen river and thaws it.  “We bonded.”

“How did I know it would be the trouble maker of the family that you’d latch onto?”

“No offense, but wasn’t she 7 when you left home?”

“Yes, but I’ve heard stories.”

She links her arm in his as they turn towards the house.  “You know what they say about stories.  I’m sure they are usually as outlandish as they seem.”

“Especially if they are written by a certain dwarf.”

She smiles and chuckles.  “I haven’t heard from him in a while.  Have you?”

“He wrote while I was in Skyhold.  Kirkwall is doing much better after our visit.”

“Excellent!”

As they near the door, the peals of a child’s wild giggling spills out.  They step in and Branson is tossing a golden cherub of a toddler up in the air.  He squeals with delight as his flies up and is caught.  A young raven haired woman sits on the couch watching them with a careful gaze.  She looked so different than everyone else.  She smiles thinking how strong Rutherford traits must be if those blonds curls were able to overpower such dark tresses.  Branson sees them enter and sets Noah on the ground.  The little boy grumbles at the end of their game and sits himself on the floor.  His father looks down at him.  “Do you want to meet Shea?”

“Who’s Shea?”  Branson motions in front of him.  The little boy’s golden eyes lock with hers.  She waves.  He looks up at his father.

“Are you going to say hello?”

He pushes himself out of the floor and walks up to her.  She grabs hold of Cullen’s arm to help her kneel down to his level.  She holds out her hand.  He looks at it and then sees her marked hand on Cullen’s arm.  He points at it.  “It glows!”

The woman on the couch clears her throat. “Noah, it’s not polite to point.”

He looks at her and then back at Shea.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.  Lots of people stare at it.”

“That’s not nice.”

Branson rushes forward and scoops him up.  He giggles as he flies off the ground.  Shea pulls on Cullen’s arm stand back up.  She groans to herself as she thinks about the future and how much help she’s going to need if she’s already having trouble.  Noah holds out his hand to Shea.  “My name is Noah.”

She takes his hand and shakes it.  “My name is Shea.”

He points at Cullen.  “That’s Cull.”

She smiles at him.  “We’ve met.”

The woman stands up off the couch.  She tucks herself under Branson’s arm and extends her hand.  “Before my son hogs all of your attention, I’m Krissy.”

Shea shakes her hand.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The honor is mine.  I never thought I’d actually get to meet the Herald of Andraste.”

Branson kissed her temple.  “Now, now.  She’s family now.  No need to treat her any differently than you would the rest of us.”

Shea finds irony in his statement.  _Maybe he should take his own advice._   Noah squirms in Branson arms and he gets set on the floor.  Noah grabs Shea’s hand and pulls her into the living room.  She is always marveled by how brave children can be.  She sits down on the couch and he crawls up to sit next to her.  “You are family?”

“I will be someday.  Hopefully soon.”

“Why is your hand like that?”

She hands out her marked hand for him to look at.  Krissy steps forward but Branson stops her.  “It’s perfectly safe, my dear.  Nothing more than weird skin and light.”

“And magic.”

“Shea wouldn’t hurt him.”

She gasps.  “Maker.  I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Shea looks over her shoulder as Noah inspects her hand.  “I understand your concern.  I’m not offended in any way by it.  The Anchor draws fear and curiousity.  I can’t blame anyone from wanting to shy away from it or wanting to get a closer look.”

Noah stands up on the couch and leans over the back.  “Mama it feels like paper!”

Cullen chuckles.  “It took me a while to place what it felt like when I first touched it.  What does that say about me?”

Shea looks him in the eye.  “I think you know why it took you so long.”

He nods.  “You’re probably right.”

Branson looks between.  “Them did I just miss something?”

Rosalie pats Branson on the back. “Well, it’s not your fault that Cullen got the brains in the family.”

He scoffs.  “At least I got the looks.”

Krissy chuckles.  “I didn’t marry you for your looks, dear.”

“You wound me, dear wife.”

She smiles, “Looks were just a bonus.” She kisses him on the cheek and goes to sit next to Noah on the couch.  “So, Shea.  When are you due?”

“13 Solace.  We have a wager going with our friends on whether that will be right or not.”

“Oh I’m sure it will surprise you regardless.”  Noah climbs down off the couch having grown bored of her mark.  He dumps a basket of wooden blocks on the floor and begins stacking them.  Cullen sits next to Shea and wraps his arm around her as they watch him play.  He plays with her hair absentmindedly.

Mia comes over and sits in the chair.  “Dinner will be ready soon.”

Branson sits on the floor near his son.  “Good.  I’m starved.”

Mia shakes her head.  “I swear you’re still a bottomless pit.”

Rosalie chuckles.  “One day all that food is going to catch up to you and you’re going to get so fat.”

He smirks.  “Well, it’s a good thing my wife didn’t marry me for my looks.”

Cullen looks up at where Mia is standing.  “Do remember how much Dad used to eat?”

She laughs.  “I remember Mom complaining that she always felt like she was cooking for a battalion of men.  But Dad never let any of it go to waste.  I remember helping her make this giant pot of stew for dinner once and saying she was going to have to give most of it to the pigs.”

He laughs.  “Oh, the look on her face when we finished it all.”

Branson ruffles Noah’s hair.  “I remember that.  Me, you, and Dad were miserable that night.”

Cullen nods.  “We couldn’t tell her that, of course.”

Shea looks up at him.  “You mean you actually ate when you were young?”

Mia folds her arms and narrows her eyes at Cullen.  “What does she mean by actually ate?”

He kisses Shea’s temple.  “Thanks for that, love.  Sometimes I get so caught up in work that I forget.  That is until Shea and I started having dinner together every night.  She is always concerned that I don’t eat enough.”

“From the sound of it, you don’t”

“I think you can see that I do since I’m not wasting away.”

He’s been waiting for the right moment to bring up his recent status change.  He doesn’t know how they will take it, but he feels like they need to know.  With everyone present, it seems like a good time to bring it up, but with Mia’s mood, he decides to wait a little while longer.  Mia goes back into the kitchen to check on the meal.  He watches Shea watch Noah and Branson build things with blocks.  She looks happy.   He hopes her mood holds out.  Happy Shea is charming and witty.  Her quick tongue and sharp intellect have more freedom to show the off the woman he knows her to be.

“So tell us.”  Rosalie leans forward in her seat.  “How did you two meet? And don’t just say the Inquisition, because that’s the boring answer.”

They look at each other and then Cullen looks to Rosalie.  “Short answer.  In battle.”

Shea nods.  “We’ll spare the gory details.”

Branson groans.  “Aw come on!  Those are the best parts.”

Krissy shakes her head.  “You know who shouldn’t hear that.  He’ll have nightmares.”

“Ugh. Fine.  Tell the boring romantic stuff.”

Shea smiles.  “Well, it’s not all rainbows and sunshine.  I just meant we’d leave out the death.  We met in battle, there’s no avoiding some of it.”

“It was a few days after the conclave.  You all know the story of how she became the Herald I’m sure.”

They all nod and Rosalie answers the question.  “She stepped from the Fade.  Ushered from it by Andraste.”

They just nod.  There is no reason to keep people from believing.  It had been her policy the whole time.  Being the Herald gave people hope and she is not about to take that away from people when they need it.  He runs his fingers through her hair and she knows his thoughts echo her own.  “What people don’t know is that she was unconscious for a few days after that.  At the time, we also thought she may have had something to do with the explosion that killed so many.  She was a prisoner.”

Branson crosses his legs in front of him leans forward, looking very much like a child being drawn in.  “The stories don’t mention that.  You all really thought she had a hand in that?”

He nods.  “What else could we think?  The Breach opened, demons were raining from the sky, and she was the sole survivor.  No injuries besides the mark on her hand that responded every time the Breach expanded.”

“Responded how?”

Shea runs her fingers along it.  The memory of the pain she felt making her arm twitch.  “Every time the Breach expanded, so did the mark.  A mage… who had come to help, kept it from killing me as I slept.”

Mia has come to join the group now.  Dinner is ready, but she is drawn in by the story.  “But all that time she was in that dungeon in Haven, I was with my men in the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Doing our best to keep the demons away from the villagers and searching for more survivors.  I barely slept.  A few hours on a bedroll just outside the Temple.  I wasn’t about to let my men fight that battle alone.  Not when there were so few of us.”

“When I finally woke up and found out what was doing on, even knowing the mark was slowly killing me, I wanted to help in any way I could.  The working theory was that I might be able to close rifts with it.  Obviously, we know how that turned out.”  They group collectively chuckles softly.  “So, with no other options, we decided to try to use the mark on the Breach to see if we could close it too.  As a warrior, I knew the best chance we had for me making it there alive was to just charge in.”

“This is where I come back in.  My men and I were exhausted, but determined.  There was a larger rift blocking our access to get further into the temple.  And this thing is just spitting out wave after wave of demons.  But we kept fighting, knowing full well what would happen if we stopped.”

“My little group had just fought our way up the mountain to get to the temple.  And then something caught my eye.  A tall man with blonde hair, sword and shield at the ready, was charging into the fray with a few men.  All I could do was stare at him swinging that sword and fighting demons.  When I realize I’m staring, I charge in and stop a demon from hitting him in the back.  I plowed right into it and then tried to push it back so I could actually swing at it.  But I have to dodge a swing and…”

“Smack.  She runs right into me.  Thinking I’m being attacked. I look over my shoulder.  And there she is.  Her back pressed against mine.  That was the first time I ever saw her.”

“Our eyes lock together and it’s like time stood still.  Those warm honey eyes just drew me in.”

Krissy chuckles, “I know that feeling.”

“I felt the same way.  Time slowed and I got lost in ocean blue eyes.  They sparkled with life.  The thrill of the fight.  Little strands of hair cascading around her face.  I think I may have smiled at you.”

“More like your scar shifted up in that half smile I love.”

“And you looked down at it, which broke the spell.  Then the battle raged on.”

“The rest as they say is history.”

“Really?  That’s it?  A look in the middle of battle?  You didn’t know each other’s names or anything.  Hell, Shea was a prisoner!”

Shea places a hand on his knee.  “We have talked about this and we both agree that that was the moment we feel for each other.  We didn’t know it at the time, of course.”

He nods.  “Now if you’re referring to when I formally met her, it was days later.”

“Maker I felt like a foolish girl talking to you after having watched you yell at your men to get their shields up.”

“You kept shifting your gaze from my eyes to my mouth.”

She runs her thumb down his scar. “It was more the memory of that smirk on the battlefield.  And you were so cute when you stumbled over your words.”

“And that sigh you let out when I finally looked at you.”

The whole room disappears as they look at each other, reliving the moment as if it had happened yesterday.  “How long do you think we stood there before we actually said anything to each other?”

“Probably not as long as we think.  I could tell being the called the Herald of Andraste bothered you.  And when I asked you about it, you asked if it was that or the mark that bothered you.  And I took your hand without even thinking about it.”

“And I held yours right back.  And then you rubbed the mark through my glove.”

“I was worried when you pulled your hand away that I had done something wrong.”

Shea shakes her head.  “Not at all.  I just realized that we were surrounded by your men and it felt very intimate.”

“You pulled her hand away and wouldn’t look at me.  I thought I had upset you and I couldn’t stand not seeing your eyes.  That’s why I grabbed your chin and made look at me.  It was a relief to know that you weren’t upset with me, just overwhelmed with everything going on.”

“You told me that you believed I was sent by Andraste. Then I asked if you were going to call me Herald every time I saw you.  Then you flashed that smirk at me and asked if there would be other times.  Then Rylen came up with a report and you winked at me before you walked away.  I couldn’t breathe or move.  I thought I was going to faint if I’m honest.  And then I realized you had done that on purpose.”

“And the flirting war began.”

Rosalie claps her hands, reminding them they weren’t alone.  “A flirting war?!  This we have to hear.”

Mia chuckles.  “Well, tell the story at the table before dinner gets cold.”

***

Shea leans against his arm as the adults sit in front of the fire saving a few drinks before bed.  She is exhausted.  Morning sex and social situations will do that.  The chess board has been brought back out and Krissy reminds them all to be quiet because Noah is asleep.  She wants nothing more than to get the boots off her feet, curl up in bed, and go to sleep.  She runs her fingers lazily through his hair as he focuses on the game in front of him.  So far Shea is the only person there who was beaten him.  But the Rutherfords, namely Branson and Mia, are determined to best him.  Rosalie could care less.  Chess was not her game.  Though if someone were to suggest Wicked Grace, she was all for it.

She knows he won’t leave the board until the game is over because that would be seen as a forfeit.  Krissy and Rosalie even leave the table before she gets to.  She doesn’t know why she can’t leave.  She knows where the room is.  Maybe it was talking about their relationship, at least the mushy happy parts, all night.  Telling stories of their adventures.  Though they skip a lot of the Winter Palace details, though she doesn’t miss the opportunity to relive their first dance.  She sighs as she thinks of it again and scoots a little closer to him.  He lifts his arm and wraps it around her.

He looks down at her and she looks as if she could pass out at any moment.  “Why don’t you go to bed, love?  This is probably going to take a while.”

“I need your help.”

He looks between her and Mia.  His sister smirks at him.  He turns in his seat and takes off her boots and socks.  She sighs as her bare feet hit the floor.  She kisses him.  “Good luck and good night, sweetheart.”  She slides off the bench and scoops up her boots.  She stops to relieve herself before pushing open the door to the room.  It’s very basic.  A bed, just large enough for two, a bench that sits along the footboard, and a wardrobe.  She has already hung her dresses and armor inside.  She opens the door, grabs one of his shirts, and tosses her boots inside.  She quickly changes.  She smirks and decides that she isn’t going to wear anything else with it.  Wearing only his shirt, she pulls back the covers and settles in.

Though she is dead on her feet, as soon as she lays down, she is wide awake.  She groans.  She gets these fits of insomnia on days when the mark is twitchy.  Since the flare in the bathroom earlier that day, she feels like it could go off again at any moment.  She stares at the ceiling and sighs.  She rubs her stomach as she tries to will herself to sleep.

Cullen slowly opens the door some time later.  He’s trying to be quiet.  He stops when he sees her laying there with her eyes open.  “Are you still awake?  I hope you weren’t waiting for me.”

She sits up and rests on her elbows.  “No.  I’ve trying to get to sleep this whole time.”

“Is the mark bothering you?”

“A little.”

He quickly changes into his sleep pants and joins her in the bed after locking the door.  “Come here.”

She rolls onto her side and snuggles against him.  “Won again I take it.”

He chuckles, “Naturally.”  He takes her marked hand in his and massages it.  She hums and closes her eyes.  “Today was… interesting.”

“How does it feel being reunited with your family?”

“Odd, but good.  Sometimes it’s like I was never gone.  Then I look at Rosalie and realize I missed her whole life.”

“You should take some time to get to know her better then.  Just the two of you.  Because I can tell you that she feels very similar.  She’s having a hard time reconciling the boy she knew to the man you are now.”

“I’ll do that.  You two seem to be getting along swimmingly.”

“Seem?  There’s not seem about it.  We _are_ getting along.  I had a nice long chat with her while you were off with Branson.”

He sets her hand down on his chest.  “Mia feels bad about earlier.  She knows she was out of line.  So, fair warning, she might try to get you alone at some point tomorrow to talk to you about it.  She thinks the wires got crossed or something.  She’s still means what she said, but she thinks she went about it the wrong way.”

“She doesn’t have anything to apologize for.  Because I agree with her.”

He looks down at her.  “You said that earlier.”

“We both know I’ll never leave you of my own choice.  I’m selfish in that regard and so are you, but I think the fact that I’m even willing to entertain the idea so that you will be safe and happy the rest of your life is something worth noting.”

He pulls her higher up him to kiss her forehead.  “I feel the same way, I suppose. That whole concept of safety has been a recurring theme in our relationship.  And it really depends on your definition to determine whether it’s achievable.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“In our line of work, being physically safe is damn near impossible.  We’re bound to get hurt in one way or another.  But I think it’s more important to be safe mentally and emotionally.  Physical wounds can heal.  In fact, you can heal those yourself.  It’s the unseen wounds that are the danger.  I know you’ve kept me sane on multiple occasions.”

“As have you.”

“Therefore, I feel like you do keep me safe.”

“I’m not sure if she would agree with that assessment, but I can get behind that logic.  You should know. I invited Rosalie to go with me to Val Royeaux.”

He chuckles.  “When would you be doing this?”

“I don’t have a set plan, but I was thinking she could come with us when we leave here.  Swing by Skyhold.  Then go with Dorian, Bull, and maybe Sera.  There was talk of shopping, so I could ask Vivienne to join us.”

“Oh, so you’re thinking of going right after our time here?”

“I need to resign as Right Hand as soon as possible.  The longer I hold this position the harder it’ll be to step down.  Leliana might actually have to put me to work if I keep it any longer.”

“I should go with you.”

“That depends on how much work you’ll have with this situation with Ferelden.  If you don’t have a job to do, then naturally you’ll be coming with us.  It won’t be a long trip by any means.  And I’ll probably have to stay in Skyhold once we get back from Val Royeaux.”

“Which means I’ll be bringing her back here myself.”

She nods and shifts to get more comfortable.  “That was my thinking.  The length of the trip will determine whether you’ll be bringing her back before or after the baby is born.”

She continues shifting beside him trying to find a position that isn’t uncomfortable.  He grabs her unused pillow since she is using his arm, “Put that between your knees.”  She raises her eyebrow, but does as he says.  The pressure in her hips lessons and she sighs.  “Better?”

“Where the hell did you figure that out?”

He laughs.  “Same place we have been for months?”

“When did you read again?  I don’t remember that part.”

“I was humoring you back at the inn.  I’ve gotten a little further than that when I read it on my own.”

She yawns.  “Maybe that’s what’s been keeping me awake.”

“Maybe.”  He brushes his fingers down her cheek.  “Try to get some sleep.  I hear Noah is an early riser.”

She kisses his chest and closes her eyes.  Within seconds she is asleep.  He watches her for a moment before closing his eyes.  He almost doesn’t want to tell her how happy this day has made him.  He is worried that his joy at being reunited with his siblings would make her more upset about her own family.  She would likely not say that she was feeling that way either, in an attempt to let him enjoy himself.  He wishes that over the course of their stay that she will come to see his family as hers as well.  Then it might help lessen the pain she feels at not having this connection with her own flesh and blood.  Maybe spending more one on one time with each of his siblings, as she did with Rosalie, would help build that feeling he has towards his siblings in her.  It’s not an entirely selfish notion, but he can’t deny that if she starts to feel close to them then she might be more willing to make the trip to South Reach when the mood strikes him to pay his family a visit.  He doesn’t want another nineteen years to pass before seeing them again.  But that would be hard if both sides didn’t fully accept the other.  He starts to formulate a plan that might achieve that goal as he drifts to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 28, 2018


	20. Poker Face

Cullen wakes up alone the next morning.  Normally that wouldn’t bother him.  It’s when he realizes that yelling is what woke him and her not being there that makes him throw back the covers and rush down the hall.  His has bed head and wearing his sleep pants that are baggy and sit low on his hips.  He stops as he enters in the kitchen.  Shea has her head on the table while Mia and Rosalie yell at each other.  He can’t help it when his Commander voice rings out, “What in the Maker’s name is going on out here?”

The sisters turn to his voice and take in the muscled and scarred chest of their brother.  Whatever they were fighting about is instantly forgotten.  Shea sits up and looks at him.  She chuckles.  He doesn’t even realize he is barely wearing clothes.  The sisters’ eyes are wide as they take in all the scars.  Mia steps forward, “Andraste preserve me.  Where did you get all those?”

He looks down at himself and crosses his arms over his chest.  It doesn’t really help.  “I asked a question,” his Commander voice still firmly in place.

Branson slides in next to her.  “He sounds and looks just like our dad right now.”

Rosalie motions angrily to Mia, “I was telling her that Shea invited me to go to Val Royeaux with her.  And said it wasn’t a sure thing and wanted her opinion on it.  Then she flies off the handle.”

“There’s a war going on out there.  It’s not safe!”

“And then Shea told her that no harm would come to me on the trip as we’d be traveling with her most trusted people.  Not to mention the war between the mages and templars is over!”

“That doesn’t mean there aren’t lowlifes, bandits, and other unsavory people out there!”

“Shea knows the dangers!  She’s travelled all over Southern Thedas!  It’s not like she invited me to go to Tevinter!”

The women start at it again.  Yelling at each other at the same time.  Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose.  His head throbs as they argue.  “Enough!”

“Cullen, you have to see things my way!  It’s not safe for her to…”

“I said enough!”  Both women bite their tongues as the memory of their father comes flooding back to them.  “Mia.  Rosalie is an adult.  If she wants to go with Shea to Val Royeaux that is her choice.”

“But…”

“I’m not done.  I know you mean well and you want her to be safe, but you can’t control her life.  It is hers to do with as she pleases.  Rosalie.  Shea and I haven’t even decided if it’s even possible or wise for her to travel to Val Royeaux with her impending due date.  We know we need to, but it’s not set in stone yet.”

Rosalie nods.  “I know that.  I was just trying to get her opinion on it and she exploded.”

“Shea is a capable leader and fighter.  The people she would take with her are our friends and I trust them with my own life.  So, _if_ she thinks she can make the trip, then and only then will we start making plans.  Yelling at each other solves nothing.  Mia has valid concerns and has every right to voice them in a calm and collected way.”

They sigh and look at each other.  Mia speaks first, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“I’m sorry too.  I should have waited until we had more details.”

“Great.  Now I’m going back to bed.”  He points to Shea.  “And you are coming with me.”

Mia touches his arm as he waits for Shea to come to him.  “Seriously though.  Where did all these scars come from?”

“I’d rather not discuss it.”  Shea takes his hand and he turns his back on them again forgetting he’s shirtless.  All three siblings gasps as they see the scars on his back.  He walks a little faster down the hall dragging Shea with him.  He pulls her into the room and slams the door.  He locks it and sits on the bed.  He presses his palms into his temples and rubs.  He feels her magic surge and she climbs up on the bed behind him.  Her cool, soothing, magic fingers massage his scalp.

“Nightmare or withdrawal?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t recall having a nightmare last night.”

“You did or at least you were starting to.  I didn’t want them to hear it so I pulled you from it and put you in a dark quiet spot.”

He closes his eyes.  “You being a Dreamer has its perks.”

“Indeed it does.”

They are quiet for some time while she heals his headache.  “What was the nightmare you saved me from?”

“You were in Kinloch.”

“Ah.  Was it… was I in a magic cage?”

“Yes.  I take it I’ve never appeared to you in that one?”

“Nope.  Why do you ask?”

“As soon as you saw me, you snapped right out it.  This one was easy to gain control of.”

He hums.  “Good to know.  That’s… one of the bad ones.  I would have woken them for sure.”  He feels her magic fade and she places her hands on his shoulders. 

“That’s all I can do right now.”

He chuckles and turns to face her, “Ware yourself out yesterday?

“No.  It’s not that.  I could keep going, but I’m worried about using too much magic on you at one time.”

“The massaging helps too.  It doesn’t have to be magic.”

“Then turn back around.”  He turns his back to her and she resumes his scalp massage.

“Are you worried that using magic on me is having an adverse effect on my addiction?”

She fingers pause for a moment before they resume.  “It never occurred to me before I came to you in the Fade the first time.  You’ve worked so hard to kick it, twice.  And you were so close.  This step backwards worries me a lot.  The nightmares are getting worse and your headaches have returned.  I don’t want to risk sending you into a relapse.”

“The song has gotten a little louder as well, but I can resist it.  We’re in uncharted territory.  Your magic is different from the other mages we’ve encountered.  I’m the first templar to ever try to leave that behind.  I don’t want you to worry about this.  I was fine before Ostwick.  The song was whisper then.  I can get back to that place.  It’ll just take time.”

She grabs his shoulders to make him face her.  “I’m the cause of this so I have every right to worry.  When I use my healing magic on you, what does it do to you?”

“If you’re asking if it makes the song louder, the answer is no.  I don’t think it does.  I suppose I’ll find out later.”

“Should I store my lyrium somewhere else?”

He shakes his head.  “It’s safer to keep it in here.”

She touches his face.  “You look tired.  Get some more sleep.  I’ll try to keep them from bothering you.”

He cups her face and kisses her.  “Wake me at lunchtime.”

She runs her thumb down his scar.  “Will do.”  She stands and fluffs his pillow.  He crawls up the bed and gets back under the covers.  She looks down at him as he closes his eyes.  She presses her lips on his forehead.  “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

“If you hear me start to have a nightmare, throw a bucket of water on me or come into the Fade to get me out.  Whichever is faster.  They don’t need to hear that.  Not after seeing my scars today.”

She sits on the bed next to him.  She takes his hand in both of hers.  “They will ask questions.  How much do you want me to say?”

He opens his eyes.  “You can tell them about my lip scar, but I don’t want them to know how I got most of the others.  Mia will likely blame herself for helping me train enough for the templars to want me.  It is obviously not her fault, but she’ll blame herself regardless.  They don’t need to know.”

“I’ll think of something to say.”

“You always do.”

She smiles and stands from the bed.  She bends down and kisses him.  “I’ll see you at lunch.”

She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.  They are all sitting at the table facing the hallway when she comes in the room.  Mia sits up straighter.  “Will you tell us about his scars?”

She sits down and grabs a muffin from the basket on the table.  She pulls a piece from it and eats it.  “He doesn’t want me to.  And I happen to agree with his reasoning.”

“Which is?”

“You all know the line of work he is in.  Scars are an occupational hazard.  Look at any soldier in the world and you’ll be hard pressed to find one that doesn’t have scars.”

“Yes, but he has so many.”

“You mentioned you had heard stories about the things he may have gone through with the templars.  You know where he was stationed.”  She doesn’t think it would be a good idea to be completely transparent as to his reason for not telling them, but she has to give them something substantial and real or they would just keep digging.  “He will never go into details about it because it’s not something he likes to talk about.  It’s in his past and he wants to leave it there.”

“He must have gone through some horrible things if he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“As I said, it is all in his past.  We would both appreciate it if you all would not pressure him to tell you.”

Rosalie shifts in her spot to look at Mia.  “What if these things in his past cause him pain to think about?  Maybe that’s why he went back to bed?  To avoid the questions?”

Mia nods.  “That is like him.  He got beat up once and it took our parents a solid week to get the story out of him.”

Branson nods.  “They are his scars and his stories.  If he wishes to keep them to himself, I say we let him.  And will knowing the truth really make us feel any better?”

Mia looks down at her folded hands on the table.  “Probably not.  We’ve all heard the stories during the Blight about the Circle.  As well as the ones coming out of Kirkwall.  He was at both places and was there when Kirkwall’s Chantry was attacked.  I shudder to think about the things he has seen.”  She looks up at Shea.  “We won’t bother him about the scars, if it makes him feel more comfortable.”

She sighs.  “Thank you.  You will be pleased to know that he hasn’t acquired any new scars since leaving Kirkwall.  Trust me.  I’d know if he did.”

Branson winks.  “I bet you would.”

Mia smacks him.  “Don’t be crass.”

Shea laughs.  “It’s fine.  I’ve heard much worse from my friends.”

Rosalie leans forward and rest her elbows on the table.  “What do think of his scars?”

“I hardly see them anymore.  They are just a part of him.  Though I have always found the one of his lip attractive.  Especially after he told me how he got it.”

Mia drums her finger on the table.  “Is this a story we’re allowed to hear?”

Shea smiles.  “Yes, actually.  He told me a few moments ago that I was allowed to tell you all that story.  He is very proud of it, I think.”  They all wait with baited breath for her to continue.  “Things with the circle in Kirkwall have always been bad.  Knight-Commander Meredith was a vile woman by many accounts.  Everyone knows that Meredith invoked the Right of Annulment after the Chantry Explosion and the templars did as they were commanded to do.  The Champion and his allies aided the templars.  When it was all said and done, Meredith turned on Hawke and ordered him killed.  Cullen thought she just wanted to bring him in for questioning, to arrest him, and not kill him.  Just make absolutely sure that he wasn’t in on the plans his apostate friend had enacted.  So, he stepped in.  Stood between her and Hawke.  The red lyrium had made her fast and he didn’t even see her start swinging her sword at him.  If Hawke hadn’t pulled him back, she would have likely killed him.  Instead, the blade sliced through his lip.  He had to fight after that, bleeding and in pain, when she brought the statues to life.  Still he was determined to fight and get the city back under control.  Hawke had two mages with him.  But only one of them knew anything about healing and her understanding was basic.  She did the best she could, but the scar remained.”

Branson grins.  “Not only is he jacked, but he’s a badass too.”

“The scar reminds him that he made a choice to stand up for what he believed in and to stop taking orders from people who let their own issues dictate their actions.  He became Knight-Commander and aided Hawke when he became Viscount.  His actions that day set in motion a new path, one that he had never thought existed.   It eventually offered him a way out of a life he no longer wanted.”

Branson nods.  “The Inquisition.”

“Right.  Cassandra saw that he was willing to fight for what’s right and not just blindly follow the orders of a mad woman.”

Mia leans forward.  “So, that scar is a good one?”

Shea nods.  “I would say so.  Yes.”

“He went back to sleep?”

“Yes.”

Mia pushes up on the table.  “Well, the suns up and you two know what that means.”  Branson and Rosalie groan as they stand up from the table.  They head out the front door to get to work.  Mia takes a few steps away and turns back to Shea.  _Uh oh.  Here we go._   She eats her muffin waiting for Mia to talk.  “I noticed you have a scar on your arm.  Are your stories secret as well?”

She looks down at her right arm, which is exposed because she opted for a sleeveless dress.  “Not at all.  I’m a fairly open book.  Some things are harder to talk about than others, but I’ll answer any questions you have about me willingly.”

“How did you get it?”

“It’s part of a set.  I got it the same time as the one on my face, thigh, and side.  I tried to escape the avalanche I triggered with a trebuchet in a last ditch effort to kill Corypheus.  Which failed.  I fell into a cavern and was injured severely on the way down.  They were my first scars.  I’ve added a few more since.”

“You don’t consider your mark a scar?”

She looks down at her faintly glowing hand.  “I never thought it that way.  I suppose it is.”

She turns to leave again but again turns back to Shea.  “Are you upset about our conversation yesterday?  Because if I did…”

“Inadvertently.  I don’t feel they should reprimanded you for speaking your mind.  Particularly when my own stance on the subject of his happiness and wellbeing are very similar.  If I thought with all certainty that I could not provide those things to him, then I wouldn’t be here.  I would not have agreed to be the mother of his child.   I would not have said yes when he purposed.  You know full well I can’t guarantee his physical safety, but know that I will do and have done everything in my power to make sure he survives any bodily harm that comes to him.”

“I guess that will have to do.”

Shea stands from the table.  “Mia.  There are things I can’t tell you.  Whether because they are directly related to the Inquisition or because they would upset you or because he asked me not to or even because I don’t fully understand them.  If it isn’t obvious by now, I would die for that man if it meant he would be safe.  I have almost done so on multiple occasions.  One of which you already know of.  I don’t know if something I have done personally or if this is based on the stories you’ve heard that have made you doubt my love for him, but as I said before, I am an open book.  Ask me anything and I will answer if I am allowed to.  Your opinion matters to him.  He won’t say that to me, but I know him enough to know that it’s the truth.  We owe it to him to get past whatever this is between us.”

Mia crosses her arms and sighs.  “It’s hard to separate you as a person from you as a woman of means and power.”

“The means are not my own.  I have no land or coin.  I barely have belongings.  And even those I got from the Inquisition.  I’ve had to work at gaining the things that are mine.  We aren’t so different in that regard.”

“Shea, when I look at you, I see the Herald of Andraste.  The Inquisitor.  A noble from a foreign country.  Even your simple clothes are fancier than most I’ve seen.  You stick out.”

“I am more than my titles.  They do not define me.  I am more than my profession.”

“It’s hard to accept that when you wear the rings on your right hand.”

Shea holds up her left hand.  “This ring is the only one that matters.  The one your brother spent a good chunk of his savings on because he wanted it to be perfect.  Not because I wanted something flashy, because honestly he could have tired a ridden around my finger and I would have been thrilled.  He designed it with the help of a jeweler in Val Royeaux and he hates Orlais.  But he knew that they would be able to make the ring he envisioned in his mind.  This ring, this promise I made to him, is all I am.  Fiancé.  Wife.  Mother.  Those are the titles I cherish.  If I could give up being heir to Ostwick, I would.  I plan on resigning as Right Hand when I go to Val Royeaux.  I cannot stop people from calling me Herald or Hero of Thedas.  And the day I retire from the Inquisition is the day I stop being the Inquisitor.  I’m not sure how else to say it.  If someone made me choose between my status and him, I would choose him every time.  What else can I say to convince you of that?”

Mia paces the room processing her words.  She can hear the desperation in Shea’s voice.  A pleading need for her to be accepted.  Yet every time she’s looks at this woman, she can’t help but feel that she isn’t right for Cullen.  Her brother deserves a woman who already puts him first and doesn’t have to be away from him, and who has no other goals than being his wife and the mother of his children.  Like Krissy with Branson.  “I’m not sure there’s anything you can say.  It seems to me that the Inquisition comes first.  The needs of the world outweighing his needs.  His wants and desires.  I’ve already said I like you.  You are a brave, smart, beautiful, and powerful woman.  The fate of the world sits squarely on your shoulders and you have not bowed under the pressure.  That is very commendable.  But he has had a hard life.  You know that more than anyone.  He needs someone who puts his fate above that of the world.  You are not in a position to do that.”

“Are you saving you want me to be the dutiful wife?  Standing in his shadow?  Doing his bidding with not a care for the needs of others?  Because if you are, then you need to know that I wouldn’t be the woman he loves.  We met in battle, remember?  I understand his pain.  I am someone that can listen to his troubles and help him solve them.  Remind yourself why he wanted to join the templars.  How long has he dreamed of helping people?  Protecting them?  How do you think a man like that would feel about a woman who only cares about him and not the people he so desperately wanted to help since he was just 8 years old?”

“It may not be the type of woman he wants.  But it is probably the type he needs.”

“No offense, Mia, but you don’t know that.  You don’t know him.  He’s not a little boy anymore.  He has grown and changed.  Before you judge me as the wrong fit for your brother, maybe you should take the time to get to know him.”  Shea doesn’t wait for Mia to respond.  Instead she charges out the front door.  She sees that Branson has hooked his horse up to the wagon and has just climbed into the driver’s seat.  He sees her rush towards him.

“Shea?  Is everything alright?”

She reaches up her hand.  He grabs it and pulls her up.  She sits down.  “I’m coming with you.”

“Uh… ok.”  He snaps the reigns and the horse moves.  “Any particular reason why?”  She looks back at Mia as she stands in front of the house with her arms crossed.  He follows her gaze.  “What did she do this time?”

“We just had a proper argument as to what kind of woman is best for Cullen.”  He starts to pull on the reigns.  She grabs his arm to stop him.  “Don’t stop.  I need distance and you know she’ll just yell at you for not doing whatever it is you are doing.”

He nods sharply.  “You’re right about that.  Though I’m not exactly doing family farm business.”

She raises her eyebrow.  “Is that so?”

“Since this whole end of the world thing started, thanks again for stopping that by the way, I’ve been… busy.”

“Rosalie said you’ve been taking odd jobs in town to save money to build your house.”

He chuckles.  “That’s half true.  It’s what I told them at least.  Most of these _odd jobs_ aren’t even in town.  Shit I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“I seem to have that effect on people.”

“Krissy knows about all this.  I couldn’t lie to her.  No one besides her knows this.  And I do mean no one.  That’s how she wanted it.  I’m… a member of the Inquisition.”

She chokes on air and faces him.  “What do you mean you’re a member of the Inquisition?”

He looks behind him as the farm fades from view.  “I’m a courier mostly.  Though I was involved in the search for the seekers.”

“So, you’re one of Leliana’s people.”

“I report to Harding these days, but yes.”

“How did no one know about this?”

“No one knew my name except Leliana and Harding.  I go by Runner.  We both thought it was a good idea to keep everyone out of the loop.  I’m fairly certain she’d be angry if she knew I told you.  Even more so if I told Cullen.”

She groans.  “And now I’m going to have to keep this from him.”

He rubs his temple with one had.  “I shouldn’t have said anything.  Fuck.  I’m going to be in some deep shit when Harding finds out.  And I pray she doesn’t tell Sister Nightingale.”

“Runner?  I think I’ve seen that name on a few reports.”

He nods.  “I’ve had to write a few reports.  Mainly that whole Caer Oswin thing.  People were disappearing and she needed someone who could keep an eye out without being detected.  I was disguised as a simple hunter.  I went unnoticed.”

“I can see the benefit of having someone so local.”

“Sister Nightingale wanted me to remain in cover with my family.  I think it was also an attempt at keeping me safe.  Cullen would be furious if I were killed.”

“He’d be furious to find out you weren’t completely safe.”

He chuckles.  “Especially if he knew I was in the Hinterlands when you were.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was one of her people at Redcliffe.”

Her eyes go wide and she gasps.  “Are you fucking kidding me?!  That’s more than just a courier!”

He smirks.  “So, maybe I’m not being completely honest.  I’m a spy after all.”  He jerks his head behind him.  “There’s a trunk under the seat.  It’s enchanted.  There’s only two keys and it can’t be picked.”  He pulls on a string around his neck.  He holds up the plain looking key.  “I have one.  Harding has the other.”

“So, you’re on a mission right now?”

“Yes.  A raven came late last night.  I’m supposed to go into town, change into my uniform somewhere unseen, and wait by the tavern for more instructions.”

“How does my being with you impact these plans?”

He looks over at her.  “You should probably stay out of sight.  Though I imagine going unnoticed is not something you’ll be able to manage.  Maybe get a drink in the tavern.  That’s not too unusual, right?”

She runs her fingers through her hair.  “I can come up with something.  Andraste’s ass.  How am I supposed to keep this to myself?  This is a big deal.”

“You have to, I’m afraid.  I shouldn’t have even told you.  Like I said, I have no idea why I did.  Maybe because you are technically my boss.  Or maybe I wanted to impress you.”

“Have you ever been to Skyhold?”

“No.  Cullen would have recognized me even with the hood.  The furthest west I’ve ever gone is Redcliffe.  I have also been as far east as Denerim.”

“How did you manage to get away from your family for the trip?”

“Oh that’s easy.  I’d say I got a job in town delivering some item or another.  Or that I was going on a hunting trip to bring some meat back.  It was actually surprisingly easy to keep this hidden.  Until you hopped in the wagon just now.”

She looks over at him.  He seems so proud of his confession.  “When and why did you join?”

“The Breach.  I was working in the field when it opened up.  I could almost feel the explosion.  That’s probably impossible.  I knew Cullen had joined before the conclave.  Then the stories started pouring in.  The Divine was dead.  The Inquisition had formed.  Then they were coming to the Hinterlands.  I made some excuse and actually met the scouts there.  I needed to know if he was alive.  After learning he was, I told Harding who I was and that I wanted to join.  She sent word to Leliana and the rest is history.  I wanted to help in any way they found useful.  This was that way.  And it did start out as being a midway point between Denerim and Redcliffe.  Then it became helping them set up a dead drop and relaying the information back.  The blacksmith is in on that, but he just watches it to see if anything gets dropped off and lets me know.  Though he has no idea it’s actually me.”

“How did you manage that?”

“He sends a signal I can see at night.  To the untrained eye, it just looks like the smoke that continuously comes from his chimney, but it’s a slightly different color.  Just a twinge of purple.  That’s when I’ll go into town, change into my uniform, and go out to it.  It’s actually been a while since anyone has used it.”

“Was Redcliffe the only battle you’ve been in?”

He laughs.  “It wasn’t much of a battle on our end, thanks to that secret entrance.  But no.  I fought some mages and templars in the Hinterlands.”

“And you’ve never been injured?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“If you were injured, wouldn’t your sisters know?”

“Krissy knows.  She helped tend to me.  We told them I had come down with something and was bed ridden.  Mia took care of Noah while Krissy took care of me.”

“Was it serious?”

“It wasn’t life threatening if that’s what you mean.  I was burned on my leg.”  He runs his hand down the side of his thigh.  “It looks pretty gnarly, but it looks much worse than it felt.  And fortunately it’s in a spot my sisters aren’t likely to see.”

“Has Noah ever seen it?”

“Are you kidding?  That kid couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.  We tested him once with something trivial and he told Mia the second he saw her.  I make it a point to change when he’s not looking.”

They both go quiet as they near the town.  He pulls the wagon to a stop in the ally next to the general store.  He turns and unlocks the chest under the seat.  He pulls a plain looing bag from the chest and closes it.  He hides the key in his shirt and hops down.  He helps her to the ground.  He speaks at a slightly elevated volume.  Though to the untrained ear, he would just sound a little peppy.  “You know where the tavern is.  I’ll meet you there when I’ve finished getting the supplies we need.”  She nods and he goes into the general store.  She hears him exchange pleasantries with the man inside before the door closes.  She walks down the street towards the tavern.  She realizes she hasn’t really eaten today, so it would be the perfect cover.  She walks in and takes a seat by the window.  A young woman walks up and bows upon seeing her.

“Inquisitor!  It’s an honor!”  Shea smiles politely.  “What can I get you?”

“What do you have to eat?”

“The cook makes the best egg scrambles in all of Ferelden!  He’d be honored to make one for you!”

She chuckles.  “Is it on the menu today?”

“It’s always on the menu.”

“I’ll have that then.  And some water.”

She nods and rushes off to the kitchen.  She looks out the window and spots a man in an Inquisition uniform leaning against the building next to the window.  His face is almost completely hidden.  He looks like every other person under Leliana’s command, right down to the way he’s leaning.  They all looked the same unless you really studied their faces, which was obviously the idea.  You couldn’t tell if they were human or elven.  She tries not to stare at him.  He looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes.  He makes a motion that says for her to close the curtains.  She rolls her eyes and stands.  She closes the curtains enough to where she can’t be seen, but she can still see him leaning.

Nothing happens for a good long while, except her food being brought out.  She slowly eats.  The waitress is right.  It is a damn good egg scramble, with cheese, mushrooms, tomatoes, some seasonings, and something leafy that tastes of elfroot.  Upon further inspection, that turns out to be correct.  It has a very pleasing effect.  She’d had to complement the cook when she ias done.  She hears the distinct sound on an arrow hitting wood and has to resist the urge to pull back the curtain to see where it hit.

She watches him move away for a moment, then return to his spot with the arrow in hand.   He unties a piece of paper from it and reads.  His shoulders move up and the down, signaling his sighs.  He knocks on the window.  She opens the curtains and he curls his finger at her.  She quickly finishes her meal, drops some coin on the table, and goes towards the door.  She pauses.  “Excuse me?”

The waitress rushes over to her.  “Yes, your grace?”

“Please pay my compliments to the cook.  The eggs were excellent.  Tell him the elfroot was a very nice touch.”

“I will.  Thank you.”

She ducks out the front door and goes to stand next to him.  “What’s up?”

“My contact is beyond thrilled that I brought you with me and has suggested that I bring you along.”

“To do what exactly?”

“Your staff is still in the wagon, yes?”  She nods.  “Great.  I’m supposed to head out of town and meet at the dead drop.  Apparently, there’s someone I need to meet.  Up for a little walk?”

“Sure.”  She goes back to the wagon and she pulls back the blanket that hides their weapons.  She grabs her staff before covering Cullen’s sword and shield back up.  She walks back to him as he waits in front of the tavern.  “Will his weapons be safe there?”

He nods.  “The people in town know that’s our wagon and they won’t bother it since they know high ranking members of the Inquisition are relatives of mine.”

She walks beside him out of town.  He appears to be unarmed, but that can’t be the case.  _He wouldn’t go on a mission unarmed would he?_   “How far are we going?”

“See that wooded area up ahead?”  She nods.  “It’s through there.”

“Seems like a sketchy place for a dead drop.”

He shrugs and they walk in silence up the road.  She is fascinated by the whole experience.  She has never witnessed Leliana’s people in action this way.  Granted, it is already skewed just because she is involved.  He is right, it is hard for her to go unnoticed as famous as she is.  They step into the trees and even though it is mid-morning, then sun almost disappears in the dense canopy.  His foot falls are nearly silent beside her despite his boots.  “Wait here.”  He quickly scales a tree and disappears from view.

She listens attentively and scans the trees for anything she can.  She has no idea what to expect and she doesn’t like that feeling.  He drops out of a tree behind her.  “This way.”  They walk through the trees and enter a clearing.  She has a clear view of the town.

“Why didn’t we just come that way?”

“I go into the trees to lose anyone who might be following me.  If you weren’t here, I would have gone into the trees sooner and stayed until I made sure the coast was clear.  Which it appears to be.  I just checked.”  He motions to a nearly burned down shack.  “That’s where we’re going.”

“What happened to it?”

“Darkspawn raid as far as I can tell.”

“I didn’t think they had come this far.”

“South Reach is not far from Lothering and the horde marched all the way to Denerim.  Though South Reach was mostly out of their path, some stragglers found their way through.”  He starts making a wide circle around the shack.  “Door’s ajar.  That means someone has been here recently or is still here.”  He continues is circle.  “And there’s the arrow.  Come on.”  He heads right for the shack.  She follows him.  _Wait. Where did her get those daggers from?_   He steps in and she steps in behind him.  “Shut the door.”  She does.  It still smells of burnt flesh and wood.  No wonder people avoided it.  He steps into the shadows at the back of the cabin and even though she is watching him, he appears to vanish.  A woman’s chuckle feels the air and her magic activates automatically.

Branson steps forward with his hood pulled back.  “Inquisitor.  You know Scout Harding.”  The dwarf steps out of the shadows and Shea sighs, letting her magic fall away.

“Yes.  We’ve met.”

Harding smiles at her.  “Sorry for all the cloak and dagger business, but we don’t want to blow his cover.  He told you, right?  About him being part of our network?”

“He did.  I’m going to be looking back at reports with his name on them a little differently now.  Aren’t you supposed to be in Skyhold?”

“As far as anyone knows, I am.”

Branson leans against the charred wall.  “So, what’s this job you have for me?”

Harding glances at Shea and then back.  “Do remember how to get in that secret entrance into Redcliffe?”

“Need me to sneak back in?”

“Yes.”

Shea holds up her hand.  “Hang on.  You’re sending him on a solo mission into Redcliffe Castle?”

She nods.  “Sister Nightingale wants dirt on Arl Teagan.  There are only a handful places to find it and without a Left Hand, she has to use Inquisition resources.  She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t, but Runner is supposed to be… maintaining his cover for a few days.  He can’t just leave and not raise red flags.”

Branson nods.  “She’s right.  We’re all being watched like a hawk and a sudden extended absence will alert her.”

Harding nods.  “I’m not expecting this to happen right away.  But we wanted this order to be delivered in person.  We understand your circumstances and we want to maintain it as long as we can.”

“What am I looking for exactly?”

“Anything that could tarnish his name.  King Alistair’s too if you can.”

He grimaces.  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“He lived in Redcliffe for a long time.  He was raised by Arl Eamon.  And I don’t like it any more than you do, but we need to be prepared.”

Shea folds her arms and nods.  “It stinks, but she’s right.  You might also want to check Chantry records as Alistair trained there and Teagan was hold up there for weeks during the Blight.”

Branson smiles at her.  “Someone has been studying her Ferelden history.”

“I’m not sure how far Sister Nightingale wants you to dig, but the records room in Kinloch Hold still has reports in them.  The Queen might be able to fix history, but she can’t touch circle records.”

Branson tilts his head towards her and Harding nods.  They both look at him.  “Why would we go digging around the circle?”

Shea chuckles.  “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“The Queen is a mage and she was conscripted in Ferelden’s circle.”

He bursts out laughing.  “How can people just forget that?  How does one even go about covering something like that up?”

“Money and power.  Her name will be Danielle Amell in the records.”

“Hold off on the circle for now.  We might just be able to ask the College of Enchanters for information.  So, as soon as you can, go to Redcliffe and hunt for info.  Teagan is the priority, but if you find stuff on the king, even better.”

Branson pulls up his hood.  “I’ll get on it as soon as our guests leave.”

“Reports show that Teagan is still in Denerim.   But we don’t know how long he’ll be there.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Harding heads for the door.  “You pull this off, you’re looking at a promotion.  It was nice to see you, Inquisitor.  I’d say give the Commander my best, but I was never here.”

“Enjoy the trip back to Skyhold.”

She opens the door and turns back to look at Branson.  “Oh.  Before I forget.  This dead drop is being decommissioned.”

He nods.  “Got it.  I’ll take care of it.”

“We’ll let you know where to set up the new one.”

“I could scout some locations for you.”

“Let me know what you find.”  She ducks out of the door and closes it behind her.  Branson starts gathering up the unburned items.  Hidden memory crystals, papers, and a stash of weapons and potions.  He pulls a pack out from under the floorboards and loads everything in it.

He jerks his head towards the door.  “Back to the trees.”  She walks a few paces and he stops her.  “Care to take of that for me so I don’t have to come back later?”  She smirks.  She turns and sends a fireball flying at the shack.  It instantly catches fire.  They watch it burn to ash.  Shea douses it with water and uses her magic to clear the smoke from the air.  “Excellent!  I’ll escort you back to the tavern as any of your men would, then go change.  Wait for me there.”

“I’m not familiar with what a promotion means for Leliana’s people.”

“Usually it just means more missions and more pay, but it also means more time in the field and moving to Skyhold.  Which we’ve already established I can’t do unless we let the cat out of the bag.  I’m mean can you just imagine me delivering a report to Cullen’s office?”

“He’d lose his shit.”

“So, I think it’ll just mean more pay and more missions.  They’ve been very keen on maintaining my cover.”

“I’m sure this pays well.  Why haven’t you built your house yet?”

He sighs.  “Because I know that if I stick with this as I want to, then we’ll be moving one day.  Which will break my sisters’ hearts and seeing a house I built every day won’t be good for them.  Krissy understands and she has been super supportive through all this.  I have to keep a lot of secrets from her, but she doesn’t press me as they would.  You know?  It’s really nice to talk about this with someone else.  Even if you are my boss in a way.”

She chuckles.  “So, I have two Rutherfords under my command.”

“That you do.”  They walk a little while in silence.  As they exit the trees towards the tavern he looks over at her.  “What did Mia say exactly that made you need to get away?”

“Primarily that I’m not a good fit for Cullen because he isn’t my first priority.  That because we’re both focused on fixing the world that we aren’t a good fit.  She said he needs someone who doesn’t care about anyone or anything but him.  The rest of the world be damned.”

“He would hate someone like that.  He’s been focused on helping people most of his life.  He could never be with someone who wasn’t doing the same thing.  He’d see her as selfish.  I may not know the man he is now as well as I’d like to, but I don’t imagine he’s changed so much that that foundation is any different.”

“We’re a lot alike in a lot of ways.  That is one of them.  It’s something we admire about each other.  It makes things hard sometimes, but we work through it.”

“Want me to talk to her for you?”

Shea shakes her head.  “There’s only one person who can change her mind at this point.”

“I doubt she’ll even admit to saying that to you.”

“Would she deny it if he outright asked her?”

“Nope.  When faced with truth of her own words, she’ll own it.  I don’t recommend being near them when it goes off either.  But I’m not sure you’ll be able to help it as you’ll probably be called in as an eye witness.”

Shea grips her staff and twirls it between her hands.  “That should be fun.”

He opens the door to the tavern.  “Remember wait for me here.”  She nods and enters the tavern.  When the door closes, he runs off.

***

Cullen wakes in his sun filled room.  His headache is nearly gone.  He stretches and looks out the window.  The sun tells him that it is almost midday.  He can smell that lunch is being prepared and wonders why Shea hasn’t woken him yet.  He gets dressed and makes the bed.  He steps into the washroom to wash his face and fix his bedhead.  He shuffles down the hall.  Rosalie is sitting in the living room reading what looks to be one of Varric’s books.  Mia is standing in the kitchen preparing lunch.  He can hear the distant laughter of Noah coming from outside.  Mia sees him and grabs the teakettle off the stove.  She pours him a cup and hands it to him.  “How do you take it?”

“Black.  Thanks.”  He sits down in a chair next to the fireplace and sips his tea. “Where’s Shea?”

Rosalie looks up from her book.  “She went into town with Branson.  They should be back fairly soon.  He would never miss lunch.”

Mia looks over her shoulder.  “That is unless he decides to have a meal there.  He said he’d been gone a while.”

He sips tea as they settle back into their tasks.  Something doesn’t feel right about this.  Shea wouldn’t just leave without telling him.  “Did she say anything before she left?”

Rosalie looks up from her book.  “I was in the garden.  So, I don’t know.  Mia?”

“She didn’t say anything to me about leaving.”

When she doesn’t turn to tell him that, he gets the feeling there is more to that statement.  “That’s odd.”

Rosalie puts a ribbon in her book and sets it in her lap.  “What’s odd?”

He focuses on maintaining his casual tone and posture.  He sip his tea and leans back a bit in the chair.  “Well, she’s never left without telling me for one.  She also said she’d wake me before lunch.”

Rosalie catches on quickly to his train of thought.  She looks over her shoulder at Mia, who is still working on lunch.  “You’re right.  That does seem odd.  Especially if this trip to town Branson is on might take a while.  It seems she would wake you just to tell you she was going to be gone or at least left a note.”

“I didn’t see a note.”

Mia clears her throat.  “Maybe she decided at the last moment to spend some time with him.”

Rosalie shifts in her chair to face her sister more.  “Yeah, but she still could have let him know she was going.  Even last minute, he would have waited for her to write a quick note.  I’m sure whatever he’s doing isn’t that urgent.”

“Well, you know Branson.”

“Yeah.  I do.  He would have waited.”

Cullen taps his fingers on the cup.  “Maybe I should go look for her.  Find out why she left so abruptly.”

Rosalie looks over at him.  “Maybe Krissy knows if he was in a hurry or something.”

Mia shakes her head.  “I doubt it.  She’s been off with Noah all morning.”

Cullen smirks.  “If Rosalie and Krissy were outside, then that would mean you were the last one to see her, Mia.  And if she didn’t talk to about leaving, did you see her leave a note or anything?”

“Not that I saw.  As you said, she left abruptly.”

He finishes his tea and sets the cup on the floor.  He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.  He laces his fingers together and lets them hang down.  “Hmm.  Maybe I _should_ go looking for her.  She might be upset or something.”

“She’s a big girl, Cullen.  I’m sure she’s fine,” Mia’s voice has a little bite to it.

Rosalie holds out her hand towards Cullen.  He grabs the cup off the floor and hands it too her.  She heads into the kitchen.  “Would you like a refill?”

“Please.”

Rosalie sets his cup on the counter and grabs the teakettle.  “Maker I hope she’s not upset about our argument this morning.”

“Why would she be upset?”

“She seemed really excited about the Val Royeaux trip.  Cullen, didn’t she say she was going there to resign?”

“As Right Hand, yes.  Divine Victoria will be disappointed, but Shea knows she can’t dedicate her time to being the Right Hand since she’s about to have a child.”

Rosalie brings Cullen the tea and stays standing next to him.  “I’m sure the Divine would be willing to work with her.  She obviously named her as her Right Hand for a reason.”

Mia opens the oven to check something inside.  “Maybe that’s why she’s upset.  She really doesn’t want to give up the position.”

“That can’t be true.  She was reluctant to accept in the first place.  But the Starkhaven Chantry forced her hand.”

Rosalie looks down at him.  “How so?”

“The prince and Chantry of Starkhaven had made up some ludicrous changes against me surrounding the events at Kirkwall.  When we went up there to aid them with their harbor problems, the city guard was forced to arrest me as soon as my boot hit the dock.  The crimes I was accused of were severe.  The punishment would have likely been death.”  Mia turns around then.  Her eyes wide.  Rosalie nods for him to continue.  “Shea did what she could as Inquisitor, but she had no authority in Chantry business.”

“What were the changes?”

“Enacting the Right of Annulment without formal approval, the murder of Knight-Commander Meredith, desertion, and various other war crimes.  They had no evidence, but they were determined to make me pay for Meredith’s crimes.”

Rosalie touches his arm.  “Didn’t Divine Justinia V recruit you?”

“In a way, but it didn’t matter.  They locked me in the Gallows, which is what they call the area where the circle was.  She couldn’t get them to let me go, so she reached out to Divine Victoria.  Her Holiness issued a decree that exonerated me, but still they refused to release me claiming the document was forged.  They would take me to Starkhaven for trial while they determined the validity.  By the time that happened, I would be proven innocent after my death.”

“Maker’s breath.”

“Shea had one last card to play in an attempt to save my life.  She accepted the Divine’s offer to be her Right Hand.  They couldn’t deny her then.  She was their superior at that moment and ordered my release.  She then kicked them out of Kirkwall and declared the decree valid.”

Mia leans against the counter and sighs.  Rosalie looks over at her.  “Something wrong, sister?”

“How many time has that woman saved your life?”

He thinks for a moment.  _The Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Haven.  The Fade at Adamant.  His arrest in Kirkwall.  The desire demon.  Lyrium withdrawal.  Twice.  A sword through the heart._ “I can think of 8 distinct times.”

Mia groans.  “I think… I’ve… misjudged her.”

Rosalie snaps her attention to Mia.  “What did you do now?”

Cullen stands and pats her shoulder.  “Calm down, Rosalie.  Let her speak.”

“I thought she was a woman of ambition.  She was born a noble.  She has all those titles.  She admitted to not putting you above all else.  Her duties came first and you came second.  She didn’t even deny it.  I told her she wasn’t right for you.”

Cullen bites down on his tongue to prevent himself from lashing out.  “Why isn’t she right for me?”

“You should be her first priority.  She should want to do that.  But the needs of others come before yours.  Now I can see it’s more complicated than that.  I still think you need that kind of woman.  A wife and mother to your children.  Someone to come home to.”

He shakes his head.  “That’s not the kind of woman I want.  Someone to take off my boots when I get home.  A hot meal ready and waiting.  To rub my feet and dote on me.  To want for nothing of her own.  A slave to her husband.  I feel in love with her _because_ of her desire to help people.  It matches mine.  That thread is what ties the events of my life together.  I don’t need a woman to wipe my ass for me.  I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.  I have since I was 13.”

Rosalie nods.  “She might not think he comes first, that the needs of the many outweigh his needs, but she’s wrong.  You are both wrong.  She became the Right Hand to say his life.  She threw herself at that monster to save his life.  We don’t know what he’s endured and seen, I can’t imagine they are pleasant.  He has told her everything.  Do you think some weak little bird of a woman could handle that?”

Cullen sighs and rest his hands on his hips.  “Mia, I’m not mad that you said those things to her.  And you are entitled to your opinions.  I value it even.  But I will tell you what I told her before we came here.  She is the love of my life.  While I love you all as well, she is the person I have chosen to spend the rest of my days with.  And for some insane reason, she has chosen me as well.  Because of that, if for whatever reason you all didn’t like her, then we’d leave.  We’d go back to Skyhold and continue living our lives.  I would likely never visit again if she wasn’t welcome.  And we’d be back to the occasional letter.”

The air is shoved out of Mia’s chest at the force of his words.  Rosalie grips his arm.  He looks over at her.  “For the record, I love Shea.  She’s perfect for you.  That means you’ll come visit me, right?  And I was talking to Krissy this morning and she likes her.  And Branson does too!”  She looks over at Mia.  “Can’t you put your pride and judgement aside for his sake?  We get it.  You’re protective, but he is his own man and has been for a long time.  Trying to decide who he should or shouldn’t marry doesn’t fall on anyone but him.”

Mia pinches the bridge of her nose.  “Look.  I’m not saying I don’t like Shea.  I just… her life seems complicated.  I know how complicated things frustrate you.”

“When things are complicated, it gives the mind something to work at.  Much like a puzzle.  I enjoy puzzles.  It’s why I’m so damn good at my job.  There have been unexpected things, but that’s life.  None of us can see the future.  The only thing I know for certain is that she is in mine.  I’ve almost lost her a few times and I know if it ever actually happened… it would break me.  She’s knows it.  I know it.  Our friends know it.”

Rosalie is still holding onto his arm.  Her voice is pleading and she is on the verge of tears.  “Mia, please see reason.  Imagine telling Branson he couldn’t be with Krissy.  Have your opinions, that’s fine.  Just don’t push them away.  We have him back!  He’s finally come home!  Yes, his life is elsewhere, but he’s reconnected with us.  And they won’t have those jobs forever.  If we lose him now, that’s it.  Can’t you put aside your prejudice for that at the very least?”

“I’m not… it isn’t prejudice.  If you think she is the best match for you… then who am I to say differently.”

Rosalie steps towards her.  “You haven’t even given her chance.  You would feel differently if you actually took the time.  I’ve only known her for two days and I already see her as a sister.  Please.  Just try.”

Mia sighs.  “If she’ll talk to me again, then I’ll put forth more effort to be… open minded.”

Cullen nods.  “That’s all I can ask.”  He pats Rosalie’s hand and she releases him.  He steps around the table and pulls Mia into a hug.  She presses her hands into his back.  She can feel the lines of his scars.

They separate and she sighs.  “And you’ve told her everything?”

“To be completely honest, there are few things I haven’t told her.  But they are… regrets I have that I don’t like to think about.  Other than that, I have told her everything else.”

“And these things are painful?”

“They are easier to talk about now, but that’s also because of her.”

“Then maybe she is right for you.”

“There is no one else like her.  It feels like the Maker made her for me.”

She touches his arm.  “Then this incident is the last time I mention my opinion.”  She turns to the oven to check it again.  “Lunch will be ready soon.  Could one of you go get Krissy?”

Cullen nods.  “I’ll go.”  Rosalie goes back to her chair and dives back into her book.  Cullen places his hand on Mia’s shoulder.  “Thank you.” She touches his hand but doesn’t respond.  He squeezes her shoulder and turns to leave the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 28, 2018


	21. My Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the radio silence! Finals are nearly done. Just one more paper and I can return my focus to this! I'm also working on a couple of other fics, but this one is my priority! Enjoy!

When Shea and Branson get back, the tension is still high in the air.  The only sound in the room is Noah chattering at his mom as everyone silently eats lunch.  “Are we late?”

Rosalie visibly sighs and jumps out of her seat.  “Just in time!  Let me make your plates!”

Shea slides in next to Cullen while Branson kisses on the cheek of his wife and son.  “Daddy!”

“Hey buddy!  Is that a spoon?”

“I’m doing it on my own!”

“High five, bud!”  He holds out his and Noah smacks it.  He sits across from Krissy.  She makes eye contact and he just nods.  She sighs and continues eating.

Shea leans next to Cullen.  “What happened?”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

Rosalie sets a plate in front of Shea and Branson before taking her seat again.  “How was the trip to town?”

Branson swallows his mouthful of food.  “Nothing exciting.  Just picked up a few things from the store.”

“I had a nice breakfast in the tavern.”

“Yeah.  She got bored with my mundane tasks.  What about you?  What have you been up to this morning?”

Mia stands from the table with her plate.  She sets it on the counter.  “I’ll be back.”  All eyes watch her head out the front door.  She closes it behind her.

Shea looks around.  “Ok seriously.  What happened?”

Rosalie looks down the table at her.  “We had a little talk about what she said to you this morning.”

Shea looks toward the front door.  “I hope you weren’t too hard on her.”

Cullen rubs her back.  “It was calm.  We just wanted to understand what the issue was.  To find out what would drive you to run off.  She’s going to try harder to put her own feelings aside because she’s finally starting to see that you’re mine and that won’t change.”

“She’s entitled to her opinions.”

Rosalie shakes her head.  “I don’t even think this has anything to do with you.  She’s fixated on your nobility and your line of work.  If you were Fereldan and a commoner, she might have had an easier time with it.”

“Maybe I should go talk to her.”

Cullen wraps his arm around her shoulders.  “Give her some time.  She’ll come to you when she’s ready.  I think she’s just afraid of the argument starting again with Branson.”

Branson nods.  “I was headed in that direction.”

Krissy shakes her head.  “As a former outsider, I can say that the three of you have no idea what it’s like.  She is slow to let people in and can sometimes come across as mean or overly critical.  I handled that alone and I think you should let Shea fight her own battles on this.  Like I did.”

Cullen smirks.  “When Mia described you in her letter to me, she said you were sweet and quiet.”

“I can be, but I’ve had a kid since then.  And I completely understand now why she is so protective.  She might seem like she’s letting this whole title and status thing get to her, but really she’s struggling with seeing you as an adult.  All this time she’s had this vision of you as a kid.  So, it’s not Shea.  It’s you.”  No one says anything.  She ruffles Noah’s hair.  “It’s true she needs time.  But it’s more that she needs time to reconcile that you are grown up and have come home with a woman who fits you.  She doesn’t know where she fits in your life now.”

Cullen kisses Shea’s temple and gets up from the table.  He picks up his plate and sets it on the counter.  He brushes his fingers along her shoulders and goes out the front door.  Mia is leaning against the barn.  She stands up straighter when he sticks his head out.  He motions for her to come inside.  She sighs and walks towards him.  “I need to talk to you all as group.”

“Alright.”

Mia sits back in her spot.  He rubs his neck and suddenly Shea knows what he’s about to say.  “I… uh… I’ve been trying to find the best time to tell you all something… big that has happened recently.  I have a clearer picture as to what my life in the future will be like.  A wife.  A child.  Land in Ostwick.”

Mia leans forward.  “Wait.  What was the last part?”

“Shea’s not the only noble in this house.”  He looks over at her.  “Is it safe to say I out rank you?”

She chuckles.  “It’s not a ranked system, but you have a title in Ostwick and I’m just an heir.”

Branson nearly chokes on his food.  “Did you just say title?”

Cullen nods.  “I’m a Bann.”

Rosalie practically jumps up on the table.  “Holy shit!  How the heck did that happen?”

“Long version or short version?”

“Just tell the damn story.”

“You know Shea’s brother is Teyrn.  In the very recent past, Ostwick was run by a group of Banns and they voted to elect a single ruler.  Since Shea, her brother, and her father have done so much for Ostwick, they decide to make him Teyrn.  Which left the Trevelyan lands without a ruler.”

“Something to note is that my father provided land to a group of Fereldan refugees fleeing the Blight when they were turned away from Kirkwall.”

“So, her brother divided their family land in half and was looking for someone that he respected and could trust.  I was the first person he thought of.  I thought long and hard about it.  I met the Fereldan calling Ostwick home and knew that I could do a lot of good for them.  So, I said yes.”

Rosalie leans forward and cups her chin with both hands.  “Bann Cullen Rutherford.  That’s so awesome!”

Mia sighs.  “Does this mean you’re moving to the Free Marches?”

“Not necessarily.  I will have to make trips up there, but I don’t have to live there if I don’t want to.  As it stands right now, we’ll stay in Skyhold and a few times a year I’ll go check on things in Golden Grove.”

“Golden Grove?”

“That’s what I’ve named the village.  It didn’t have a name until I became Bann.”

“Your life has changed so much since being that little boy in Honnleath.”

He looks to Shea.  She smiles at him and his signature goofy half smirk appears on his face.  “But in the best of ways.”

Mia shakes her head and chuckles.  “Well, if you are happy with your life, then I am too.  This is a lot to take in all at once.”

He shrugs.  “I decided it was time to put all the cards on the table.”

“Anything else we should know?”

He looks at Shea and she nods her encouragement.  “I’ve stopped taking Lyrium.”

They have all heard what rumors of what happens to templars eventually.  Mia stands up.  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“At first, but I have been monitored the whole time.  It’s been a hard road, but I’m almost free of the Chantry’s leash.  I’m past the dangerous part.  It’s downhill from here.”

Mia looks over at Shea.  “Who made that choice?”

“He started this before I ever met him.  But I fully support him.  If I thought he couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have encouraged him to continue.”

“I want to be free.  Being a templar was not what I thought it was.  I want to be my own person, make my own choices, and not be tied to that life anymore.  I’m the first templar in history to make the choice.  I can be an example.  I can show my former brothers and sisters in arms that it’s possible.  Now that the circles are over, they need to know that they have other options.”

Branson smacks his hand on the table.  “Hear, hear.  More power to you, brother.”

Rosalie nods enthusiastically.  “If there is anything we can do to help you, we’re here for you.  I, for one, would love to see your land one day.”

Mia chuckles.  “Easy now.  Let’s not get too crazy.  We have a life here.”

“I’m not saying I want to move or anything.  It would just be nice to see it.”

He smirks.  “Do you all remember Hannah?”

Rosalie stands up.  “Yes!”

“She lives there with her family.”

Rosalie covers her face.  “Oh Maker!”

Mia smiles.  “I think about them often.  It’s nice to know that they made it.”

“She has kids now.”

Rosalie turns to Mia.  “Oh we have to go visit now!  I need to write her a letter!”  She scampers off down the hall.

Branson stands up.  “Well, that field isn’t going to plow itself.”  He ruffles Noah’s hair and kisses the top of his head.  Then he kisses Krissy and goes out the front door.

Cullen gathers up the plates and a utensils.  “Guess this noble is doing the dishes.”

Mia, Shea, and Krissy laugh loudly.  Krissy stands and scoops up Noah.  “Want to go watch daddy work?”

“I want to play with Cul!”

“Cullen is doing the dishes.  Maybe later.”  She sits him on the ground.  “What else would you like to do?”

He looks around and then runs out the front door.  Krissy chuckles and chances after him.  Cullen picks up a bucket and heads for the door.  “Where do you get your water?”

“The river.”

“Got it.”  Shea clears her throat and waves her hand in the air.  The bucket fills with water.  He chuckles and heads back into the kitchen.  “Thanks, love.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Mia smirks.  “Well, being a mage looks like it comes in handy.”

Shea looks over at her.  “Need something heated or watered or cooled off?  I’m your girl.”

Cullen looks over his shoulder as he washes.  “Or if Branson hurts himself.”

“True.  Healing magic is my specialty.”  Rosalie comes back in the room with her letter in hand.  It looks lengthy.  “Wow.  You wrote fast.”

“Now I just need to send it.”

Shea snaps her fingers and Sky comes flying in through her rift.  She lands on her shoulder and pecks at her hair.  She scratches the bird’s head.  “Yes, yes.  I know.  It’s been a while.”  Rosalie hands the letter to Shea.  “Please take this to Hannah in Golden Grove.  And don’t just pop in like you normally do.”  She strokes the bird’s head a few more times.  Sky takes the letter and flies through her rift.

“How did you get that raven?”

“She was given to me by our spymaster so that I could send my own messages whenever I wanted.”

“I meant the magic part.”

Shea looks over at Cullen as he looks back at her over his shoulder.  He shakes his head and she nods.  “I can’t say.  It just sort of happened one day.”

“Weird.”

“Indeed.”

Mia looks over at Cullen.  “You should know that your horse is getting restless.  She could also use a good grooming and new shoes.”

Shea smirks.  “The pasture where the sheep are kept.  It’s completely fenced off right?”

Mia nods.  “Certainly.”

“Is it high enough to keep a horse in?”

“I would say so.”

“Then let her out.  She can run around and entertain herself.”

Mia chuckles.  “And startle the sheep.”

“She might not startle them.  Hell, she might not even run around.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot.  We only have one stall and Chestnut misses his home.”

Cullen nods.  “I’ll take her out there when I’m done here.  And we should probably take her into town before we go.”

Shea nods.  “I need to write Josie to make travel arrangements.”  She holds up her hand to silence the protests about to erupt out of the sisters.  “We’re not leaving just yet.  But getting a carriage here will take time.”

Rosalie exhales.  “You scared me for a moment there.”

“Sorry.  All this horse talk reminded me that I don’t have a way back home.”

“We should keep Chestnut and… what’s your horse’s name?”

Cullen dries his hands on a towel and turns around.  “I… don’t know.  I never thought to name her.”

“Dennet probably has a name for her.  He names all the horses.”

“When you write Josie, could you ask her to find out?”

“Sure.”

He kisses her forehead.  “You coming with me?”  She stands up and takes his hand.  Mia sits in a chair in the living room and takes some spooled yarn out of a basket.  She begins kitting as Cullen and Shea go outside.  Noah’s laughter and squeals fill the air as Krissy and Branson chase him around.  As they enter the barn, his horses stomps the ground and is clearly excited to see him.  He runs his hand up her snout.  Shea grabs a lead and head collar from the wall and hands it to him.  He puts them on the horse and opens the gate to the stall.  Her white coat is need of attention.  He decides to let her roam some before he grooms her.  He runs his hand down her front leg and she lifts it for him.  Shea leans against the wall as she watches him.  She could really get used to watching him do things like this day in and day out.  What she had a hard time picturing was her doing these things.

After inspecting her hooves, he decides that it is definitely time for new shoes.  He leads the majestic animal out of the barn, Shea falling in beside him.  Noah comes running up to them.  Shea scoops him up before he gets too close.  Running full speed at a war horse is never a good idea.  He wraps her hair around his hand and points.

She smiles.  “You want to pet the horse?”

“Yes.  It’s pretty.”

Branson stands beside them.  “Remember what I told you Noah.”

“Go slow and be gentle.”

He ruffles Noah’s hair.  “Good, lad.”

Cullen stands in front of his horse as Shea and Noah approach.  This pure white horse is not as bulky and muscular as the farm horse.  She is still quite large and can easily pull a carriage or wagon, but she would never be able to handle a plow.  Noah reaches slowly towards the animal.  She appears uneasy around the tiny person, but with Cullen there she calms down.  Noah touches the side of her neck and slowly brings his hand down.  “Pretty.”  He looks at Shea.  “You’re pretty too.”

“Thank you.”

“Daddy says I’m always supposed to tell a girl if I think she’s pretty.”

“That’s good advice.”

“My daddy is smart.  I wanna be just like him.”

Cullen stands there petting his horse’s mane as he watches Shea hold Noah in her arms.  He can’t tear his eyes away from them.  He imagines her holding their child this way.  A goofy grin appears on his face.  His heart sings and he feels more eager than ever for their child to be born.  Seeing her with their child in her arms will be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.  She catches him staring at her and a blush rises in his cheeks.  He looks away and starts leading the horse to the pasture.  Shea follows him with Noah still in her arms.  The little boy plays with her curls and marvels at their color.

Branson opens the gate for Cullen and he leads the horse through.  He removes the lead and head collar.  The horse just stands there and Cullen lightly hits her backside.  She walks out into the field and lazily begins grazing.  Shea had expecting the horse to run around the field with joy of being relatively free.  She chuckles at how similar Cullen and his horse are.  Calm and collected.  Cullen comes back through the gate and Branson closes it.  Noah wiggles in her arms and she sets him down.  He smacks Cullen’s leg.

“You’re it!”  The little boy runs away as fast as he can.

Shea smiles at him. “Well, go on.”  Cullen plants a kiss on her lips and chases after him.  She leans against the fence and watches her Commander play with his nephew.  She rests her hands on her stomach.  Though she has a near constant fear that she’s going to be a horrible mother, having not had a good one herself, she knows that he will take to fatherhood like a fish to water.  The view of him pursuing the golden haired child warms her heart.  She can picture him running around Skyhold in hot pursuit of a giggling child.  He looks so happy in his task, pretending he’s not fast enough to catch him.  The laughter ringing through the air as he runs around.

Movement in the sky pulls her attention away from the joyous scene in front of her.  A raven circles overhead.  She knows that it isn’t Sky because the bird isn’t coming right to her.  She looks over to Branson and then back at the sky.  He follows her gaze.  He spots the bird and casually walks to the other side of the house.  Shea watches the bird slowly descend and then disappear behind the house.  Moments later it flies off.  Shea crosses her arms over her chest and watches Cullen and Noah play.

Branson comes to lean beside her.  He doesn’t look happy.  “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

“Certainly.”  He leads her out into the field he has been plowing, completely out of view from the others.  “Is that from Harding?”

He sighs.  “No.  It’s from Sister Nightingale.   I’m not sure how word got back to her so quickly that I told you.  It hasn’t been that long since we got back and I know Harding hasn’t made it back to Skyhold yet.  The spymaster has job for me.  She says it’s a test, which makes me nervous.”

“What kind of test?”

“I can’t tell you the details.  She explicitly said as much, but I’m not sure I can do what she’s asking.”

Shea smirks.  “You know if I happen to… find it on my own, you wouldn’t be giving me details”

He chuckles and fumbles with the note.  He drops it on the ground.  She quickly picks it up before the wind can carry it away.  “Goodness.  What butterfingers I have today.”

She quickly reads over the message.

_Runner,_

_I have just received word that The Inquisitor knows your true identity.  I do not know what possessed you to reveal yourself, but I see this as a blessing and an opportunity._

_I have a job for you.  A test.  Several things hinge on your success.  I need you to do the assignment Harding gave you while The Inquisitor and Commander Cullen are there with you. You’ll need to do this without raising suspicion, which includes The Inquisitor.  Do not give her any details.  You will also need to return before they leave.  Good luck._

_L_

“That seems an impossible task.  I mean the travel time alone.”

“My horse can’t handle riding through the night like that.  Redcliffe is six days away.  The mission should take a day, maybe two.  And then I have to get back before you leave.  All while not drawing suspicion.”

Shea rubs her chin.  “You could tell us that you found a job in town tomorrow.  Something that pays so well, you simply couldn’t pass it up.  If you asked us to stay until you return, I could assist by saying we will.”

“Don’t you need to get to Val Royeaux?”

She nods.  “We haven’t even planned it out yet.”

“You would stay here for two weeks?”

“It might take some convincing, but I think we can manage it.  You might also ask Cullen to borrow his horse.  So, that the trip is faster.  She is more than capable of riding long distances at a quick pace.”

He nods.  “That could work.  It’s worth a shot.”

She starts to walk away.  “Remember.  This was your idea.”

“Right.”

She turns her back to him and drops the message.  She doesn’t look to see if he picked it up.  It worries her that Leliana would ask him to do a dangerous and nearly impossible task.  She hopes Branson is convincing or it won’t work.   As she rounds the house, arms fly around her waist.  Lips press against her neck and she leans back against Cullen’s broad chest.  “Where’d you run off to?”

“Branson was showing me the field.  Plowing looks like hard work.”

“The horse does most of the work, but I imagine it is.  I was thinking you could use a break from the family.  I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

She chuckles.  “What did you have in mind?”

“Just a little stroll.  The ever watchful eyes of my siblings would prevent us from doing something more fun.”

“More like their ears.”

He laughs into her neck.  “True.”  He rests his hands on her belly as he kisses up and down her neck.  “Though payback is in order.”

She moans softly.  “I don’t see how.  I think we’re even at this point.”

He nips at her skin and her heart races.  “What you did is way worse than what I did.”

“We were alone… we had a tavern full of people when… Maker you’re distracting.”  He chuckles against her neck.  He continues to kiss and nibble up and down the length of her neck.  She melts into him and moans softly under is touch.

“Care to tell me what that raven was all about?”

She chuckles.  “So, this is an interrogation is it?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

She turns in his arms and wraps her arms around his neck.  “It wasn’t for me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then who was it for?  Because I only know of one set of birds trained not to deliver until the recipient is alone.”

She sighs and rests her forehead on his chest.  “I can’t tell you.  It’s not my secret.”

He moves her away from him and lifts her chin to make her look at him.  Her eyes look off to the side.  He shakes her chin gently.  “Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to make me tell you and this is hard enough as it is.”

He sighs.  “Fine.  Keep this secret.  But I will find out.”

Her eyes snap over to him.  “Cullen.  Please don’t go digging for answers.  If I wasn’t asked to keep you in the dark, you know I would have told you right away.  A lot hinges on keeping this quiet.  Please trust me that I’m trying to do the right thing here.  I’m not keeping this from you as your fiancé, but as the Inquisitor.”

“What Inquisition business should I not know?  I am your advisor.  I can’t advise if I don’t have all the information.”

“This isn’t in your department.”

He lets out a long sigh.  “I won’t dig, but it trust that once this is handled, you’ll let me know.”

“Of course.  As soon as I’m allowed to tell you, I will.”

He smirks.  “You know… you are the Inquisitor.  You could make that call without permission.”

“I could, but I won’t.  As I said, a lot is riding on the secrecy of this.  Believe me when I say that it pains me not to tell you everything.  You are my partner in all matters.  And one day I look forward to not having to do stuff like this.”

He nuzzles her nose.  “With this Ferelden mess, I feel like that day might be sooner than we anticipate.”

“Meaning?”

“This hasn’t exactly been the vacation I was hoping for.  Josie has been keeping me updated.”

“Care to share these updates?”

He kisses her and takes her hand.  “Walk with me.”  He leads her to the river and they walk along its bank.  They get some distance from the house before speaking.  “They are calling for a council.  Demanding that the Divine step in and answer to why an organization founded by her predecessor is still operational when the issues surrounding its formation have been resolved.  Empress Celine has gotten wind of these… complaints and has openly declared her support for our continued existence.  Something is brewing and there’s not much Josie can do about it.  It’s out of her hands.”

“Can she stall this council?”

“She’s trying her best.  She’s been emphasizing your continued efforts in the field with the rifts as well as your impending due date.  The most she can buy us is time.  The problem arises with what happens after your give birth.  If we are idle after that, Ferelden may see that we aren’t doing our job anymore.”

She squeezes his hand.  She knows that Branson will be asking them to stay until he gets back from Redcliffe.  She needs to come up with something to do during that time.  Something in the area and something important.  She’ll also need help.  “Maybe we can come up with something to do to aid the people more.  A project of importance that only the Inquisition can do.  There has to be more rifts that aren’t being reported.  We haven’t been all over Ferelden much less Thedas.”

“We could send out scouts to scour the country.  But that’s not the problem.  We’ll have a newborn.”

She sighs.  “I get that, but we need to do something to buy us more time.”

“Maybe we need to call this trip short and go back to Skyhold.”

She groans.  “No.  I haven’t had a break.  I need a break.  Ostwick wasn’t even a break since we were kidnapped and… recovering.  I’m going to go crazy if we just keep working nonstop.  Tell you what.  I’ll handle this.  You focus on being here in the moment with them.  Maybe I can get Dorian, Bull, and Sera to come down here and we can go south to look for rifts.”

“You just said you need a break.”

She rubs her shoulder.  “I don’t know, Cullen.  I need a break, but we can’t just let them win.”

“We aren’t letting them win.”  He stops walking and pulls her into his arms.  “Just enjoy this time while we have it.  Josie hasn’t indicated that she needs us back yet.  I say we stay here until she does.  We can plan your trip to Val Royeaux with Rosalie.  We can have a picnic or something along this river.  We can try to relax and stop thinking about the outside world for a little while.  Easier said than done for both of us, I know, but we should at least try.”

She wraps her arms around his chest and settles into his embrace.  He rubs his hands on her back and she smiles contentedly against his chest.  He fell right into her trap and has set Branson up perfectly.  Well, mostly.  It is up to him to sell everyone on the idea of him being gone for two weeks.  She rests her chin on his chest and looks up at him.  “So.  You said something about alone time?”

He smiles down at her.  “We’re alone now, but yes.  I was thinking we could just lay out in the grass somewhere and enjoy some peace and quiet.”

She hums.  “That sounds nice.”

“We should probably enjoy moments like this while we can.”  The leads her up the hill where she had her talk with Rosalie.  He sits down in the grass and she sits down next to him.  He chuckles.  “We should have brought our book.”

She shrugs and lays back.  “That’s alright.  We’ve got clouds to entertain us.”

He lays down beside her and laces his fingers with hers.  They watch the fluffy white clouds roll lazily by.  The warm spring breeze ruffles their hair and the grass around them.  She looks over at him.  His head rests on his other hand, one knee is bent up, and his other leg is stretched out.  His eyes shift and look at her.  She smiles and he pulls her hand up to kiss the back of it.  He brings their joined hands to rest on his chest.  “I love these little moments.”

She chuckles.  “We don’t have them often enough for my liking.”

“Agreed.  We’ll have to make it a point to do this more often then.”

“Promises, promises.”

He turns his head to look at her.  “Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Our lives haven’t been easy.  Especially in the past year and a half.”

“You mean the entire time we’ve known each other?”

He chuckles.  “Yes, exactly.  It surely can’t continue like that forever.”

“Even if it does, we will have each other as we have.  We shall carry on, as they say.”

He sighs.  “Maker, do I look forward to living in a world, or at least living a life, where something isn’t trying to kill us at every turn.”

“You and me both.  But when do you think that’ll happen?  Because as long as the Inquisition exists, I’m in this.  I’ve been passionate about our cause since the very beginning and I honestly don’t know what I’ll do if it ends.”

“I’m in the same boat, love.  Regardless of the path we are led down in the coming months, I know a few things for certain.  One, we’re in this together.  Where ever and whatever you decide, I’m with you.  Two, we have a beautiful child on the way.  A symbol of our commitment to each other.  More than any marriage vows could ever prove.  Which brings me to three.  I am going to give you my surname one day.  I don’t know when, but it’s going to happen.  And we’re not letting Josie plan it.”

Shea laughs.  “No big fancy party then?  What will our fellow nobles say?”

He laughs.  “Hell, I’m tempted to just drag you off to a Chantry and marry you in secret to avoid that.”

She smirks.  “Poor Dorian.  He’s going to heart broken that he won’t get to buy a new outfit.  Hey!  Do you think if we did have a big wedding, Bull might give us Dorian as a wedding gift?”

He laughs so hard his side hurts.  She admires the way his eyes crinkle at the edges and the little snorts that escape him.  His laughter is contagious and she joins in with him.  He looks so young and carefree when he laughs.  He wipes a tear from his eye and sighs happily.  He chuckles a little more.  “Where do you think he’d tie the bow?”  They laugh some more.  He rolls onto his side and pushes her hair begin her ear.  “You know.  I still have… actually.  Never mind.  I would rather not do that here.”

She smirks.  “We’ll do it whenever _you_ are comfortable and ready to do it.  If you don’t feel comfortable doing it here, we’ll just wait until we get back to Skyhold.  Or maybe if we make a pit stop in Redcliffe.  It’s up to you.”

He scoops closer to her and kisses her long and deep.  She grab his face and lets him ravish her mouth.  When he pulls away, she groans.  He chuckles and begins kissing her again.  She runs her fingers through his hair.  His hand caresses her side.  The intensity of the kiss makes their lips red and swollen.  When he starts to pull away again, her teeth gently pull on his lower lip.  He hisses and his hands dig into her hips.  She smirks at him when she releases her hold on him.  He looks towards the house.  They are far enough away that he doesn’t see anyone.  He looks around the surrounding area and doesn’t see a soul.

He pulls her up to a seated position.  He captures her face with his hands and kisses her roughly.  His mouth crushes hers and she moans against him.  Her hand strokes his already rock hard cock through his pants.  He growls against her mouth.  She struggles up unlace his pants while he’s attached to her face.  Eventually, he springs free of his confines and she strokes him in earnest.  He pulls her into his lap and presses himself against her wet smalls.  He reaches between her legs and moves them to the side.  Not bothering to take them off.  She runs her fingers along his scalp and he kisses her neck.  His fingers tease her folds and she moans.  Her head falls back and he kisses along her throat.  Her hips rock and he can’t take it anymore.

The lines himself up and she slowly pushes her weight down to take him in.  They grind together and moan in unison.  His runs his hands up her back and presses his palms into her shoulder blades.  He nips and sucks what little flesh she has visible.  Her neck, a hint of clavicle, her jaw, her ears, her arms.  She is in control of his thrusts in this position.  His legs straight out in front of him while she rides him on her knees.  There isn’t much he can do but circle his hips and hope it works for her.  From the moans and sighs escaping her lips, he can tell it’s enough.

She rocks and bucks on top for him.  Her walls pulsate around him and he knows she already close.  Fucking her fully clothed is not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it is thrilling.  He leans her back a little.  He supports her with one hand on her back and uses the other to move her leg so that foot is on the ground instead of her knee.  She takes the hint and moves her other leg on her own.  He wraps his arm around her as he shifts his own position.  He lifts her as she grinds.  Never stopped her motions despite his efforts.  He manages to get on his knees.

He thrusts up and in.  She cries out as her orgasm rolls through her.  There is no way his family didn’t hear that.  She presses herself against him with her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders.   He wishes he could see her body in the spring sunlight.   The sun kissing her naked skin.  She moans his name into his ear.  He nips at her neck and she moans loudly.  With all of their clothes on, the sweat builds rapidly and their hair sticks to their sweat covered faces.  Her hair even sticks to his face as he licks the salty beads from her neck.

Spasms rock through her again and she practically goes limp in her arms.  Her bones turning to mush and she leans back.  If she were naked, it would have been the perfect opportunity to dive face first into her breasts.  He does so now, but becomes frustrated at the fabric of her dress.  He nips and bites at her breasts through the layers.  Even with a dress and breast band on, her hardened peaks stick out.  His teeth graze from one to the other and he pushes her over the edge again.  Her hips fall out of rhythm with his as they stutter their way through her climax.  Her cries of pleasure could probably be heard at the neighboring farm and not just the family farm at the bottom of the hill.

Her hands grip his shirt as she tries to pull herself back up.  He hugs her close to him and she caresses his face.  He would hardly consider what they were doing love making, but when she caresses his face like that, his movements slow.  The intensity is still there, but the urgency is gone.  His thrust become hard and slow.  He watches her eyes flutter open.  The bright sun hits them and makes them sparkle.  His breath hitches.  Her beauty always takes him by surprise.  Especially in these intimate moments.  Her hair stuck to her face, her cheeks flush, and beads of sweat leaving wet trails on her skin.  Looking at his pregnant goddess, he can’t imagine how men could cheat on their wives during this time.  Yes, it would only become more difficult to do as time went on, but she has a glow about her that makes his heart sing.

He brushes his fingers along her jaw with one hand.  He leaves the other firmly in place on her back in case she falls back again.  She trembles in his arms.  A sign that something about this is making it harder to hold onto her control.  She expressed to him once that she feels guilty and selfish when she finishes more than once when he only had one.  She never believes him when he says he enjoys bringing her pleasure more than he enjoys reaching his own end.  It is true though.  He loves to wear her out completely.  Making her cum hard multiple times.  Making her orgasm so many times that she can’t walk afterwards because her legs are like a pair of cooked noodles.  He loves it when she lost count of how many times he drove her crazy.  He loves it even more when he loses count.

He kisses her tenderly and even that drives her over the edge.  She moans against his lips and pulsates around him.  She digs her hands into his back, holding on as if he’ll disappear on her.  His kisses are feather light on her overly sensitive lips.  She hugs him to her and presses the side of her face to his.  Her breath is hot and heavy in his ear, which urges him to increase his speed.  Her moans sound more like high pitched whines in his ear.  He moans and grumbles.  His body tightens and he can feel his own end nearing.  She squeezes around him.  Her center already trying to milk him dry.  She half whines, half whispers in his ear.  “Oh, Cullen.  Come for me.”

He comes undone.  His fingers press into her back and she hugs him even tighter.  He presses his face into her neck.  His breath is caught in his throat along with his cry.  He fills her with his hot spend and she cries out.  Her cry encourages his to surface.  It stutters out of him and he leans forward.  Her head falls back and she lets out a few breathy chuckles.  Another sign of the good time she had.  She pulls his face down to kiss him as his body relaxes.  He lays her down in the grass and she smiles sleepily at him.  He removes himself from her and fixes her smalls so that they are on properly.  He checks himself.  The front of his pants a slick with her juices.  He adjusts himself and laces the front of his pants.  He lays down in the grass beside her.  She rolls on her side and places her hand on his chest.  He wraps his arm around her and pulls her in close.  She rests her head on his chest and sighs.

“I love you.”

He hugs her with one arm and brushes his fingers along her face with the other.  “I love you, too.”  Her eyes close and she hums.  “Taking a nap, my love?”

“Mmhmm.  You wore me out.”

He chuckles and kisses the top of her head.  “Good.”  She falls asleep and he watches her while he absentmindedly plays with strands of her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short this time! Hopefully the next chapter will be longer.
> 
> UPDATED July 28, 2018


	22. Time Marches On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry this has taken so long. I have been battling with writer's block since posting the last chapter. It's been hell. But I'm slowly breaking through so yay! Let me know what you all think of this chapter. Since it was written during my block, I'm not feeling very confident about it. Thanks for sticking with me! I have not given up on this story and have no intention of doing so in the future!

“Two extra weeks?  That’s lot to ask Branson.”

“I know, but I just can’t pass up a job that pays this well.  If you let me borrow your horse, it’ll be much faster.”

Cullen runs his fingers through his hair.  He did just have a conversation with Shea about staying until they were called back.  A lot could happen in two weeks, but if his brother is leaving regardless, someone would need to pick up his duties while he is gone.  May as well be him.  “I can’t make you any promises, but we will try to stay that whole time.  But if we are called back to Skyhold, we will have to leave before you get back.”

“Understood.  Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.  You still have to convince the rest of the family to let you go.”

Branson laughs and claps Cullen on the back.  “I’m not worried about it.”

***

Shea has made Branson promise to let her know when he arrives in Redcliffe even if Leliana doesn’t want her to know.  She worries about how hard he is going to push Cullen’s horse.  He would be upset if she died from exhaustion.  A routine has developed in Branson’s absence.  Cullen wakes early every morning.  He and Mia head out to tend the field all before they cook breakfast.  Shea is discouraged from doing any work at all.  No dishes.  No cooking.  Nothing.  It is all a part of her vacation.  With nothing else to do, she reads.

Five days later, she receives a letter from Branson via Sky.  He has made it and the horse seemed not to tire at all.  He has her stashed at the nearest Inquisition camp and is headed into the village.  He will let her know when his mission is completed and he is headed back.  If everything goes to plan, he’ll be back before the two week mark.  She makes it a point to burn that letter so no one will find it.

She is nearing the end of their book and is into scary territory.  The actual act of child birth.  She should be used to the idea of things trying to kill her, but she never guessed that her child might be one of them.  There are a lot of complications that could arise and it makes her blood run cold.  She is so engrossed in reading that she doesn’t even notice him sit next to her on the couch.

Her skin is pale and nervous sweat beads on her forehead.  He pushes hair behind her ear.  “Is something wrong, love?”

She snaps the book closed.  “Wrong?  No.  But I’m not sure I sure I should let you finish reading this.”

His eyebrows knit together.  “Why not?”

“It’s… a little frightening.”

Mia chuckles from the kitchen.  “Still reading that pregnancy book?”

Shea looks over at her as Cullen takes the book from her hands. “Yes.  And it’s terrifying.”

She chuckles.  “Says the woman who saved the world.  You should talk to Krissy.  She ended up giving birth here.  Noah came so fast we didn’t have a chance to get to the midwife in town.  I ended up having to help her deliver myself.”

“This says I could be in labor for days.”

“Or it could be over quickly.  I’m sure no one knows for certain.  Most of my experience has been with sheep.  It’s a natural thing and unless you run into problems, your body will know what to do.”

Cullen sits back on the couch and continues reading where he left off.  She looks over at the page he is reading.  “The scary stuff isn’t until later.”

He chuckles.  “I figured as much.”

She shakes her head.  “You and your need to read things properly.”

Mia chuckles.  “He’s always been that way. Glad to see that some things haven’t changed.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence.  Shea watches Mia prepare something in the kitchen for a moment while she runs her fingers through Cullen’s hair.  Over the past few days, Shea has tried to show Mia that she isn’t like other nobles.  That she cares for more than just expensive food and fancy clothes.  Whatever she’s doing seems to be working because Mia seems to have finally accepted her.  The newness of this whole situation, this family reunion, is finally starting to normalize and she starts to picture this as her life.  Quiet days willed with good old fashioned manual labor and caring for a family.  It’s not a life she thought she’d have.  In fact, she’s still not sure if she’ll ever get it since the Inquisition is still fighting to right the world.  There is still a lot of things to do and she’s not ready to give it up if she’s being honest.  When she thinks of home, she pictures Skyhold.  Those stained glass windows.  The buzzing people who are always around except in the dead of night.  Going off on adventures and coming back to her man and the castle in the mountains.  This is a nice vacation and it is nice to know that it will be here when they need to get away from their busy lives. 

Rosalie comes bursting through the front door.  Her hair is wild and she is struggling to catch her breath.  Shea is off the couch before Cullen can even register the change.  Shea has seen this look more times than she can count.  The fear and worry.  She starts walking towards their room.  “Where is it?”

Cullen rushes past her and disappears down the hall.  “Thank the Maker he didn’t take the wagon.”

Krissy comes rushing in with a wailing Noah in her arms.  Shea stops her progression towards their room when she sees that they are both covered in blood.  Her magic sparks and her hands fly to Noah first.  “Come here, little one.”  She scoops him up in her arms as Krissy flops onto the couch.  “Auntie Shea is going to heal you ok?  Can you be brave for me?”  He nods despite his gigantic tears.  She places her hand on his cheek and closes her eyes.  She soon realizes that most of that blood isn’t his.

Cullen comes back in the room with his arms full of armor.  Both his and hers.  “Rosalie.  Get my sword and shield and Shea’s staff from the wagon.”  She nods and rushes out the front door.  Mia rushes over to Krissy with a bowl of water and a cloth. 

Shea goes to Mia with Noah.  “Take Noah.”  Mia stands and takes the still crying child from her arms.  Shea places her hand on Krissy.  “Maker.”  Cullen looks over at her as he straps on his armor.

“How bad is it?”

“I’m going to need lyrium after this.”

Krissy sighs as Shea’s magic flows into her.  The pain relief is instant.  “We were on our way back from visiting my mother.”

Shea shushes her.  “I’ll wait for Rosalie to get back in.  You need to be still.”

Mia moves to stand next to Cullen while comforting the child in her arms.  “Where’s her lyrium?”

“In her bag.”  Mia takes off down the hall.  Cullen finishes donning his armor as Rosalie comes running back in.  He equips the sword and shield as she holds them out to her.  “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head.  “I was on the hill.  I heard this tearing, popping noise.  And then screaming.”

Mia comes back in with a bag in her hand.  She sets it next to Shea.  Rosalie takes Noah from Mia as she struggles the dig through the bag.  Cullen’s mouth waters when she produces the vial of blue liquid.  Shea sees his pupils dilate.  “Rosalie, take him outside.”  Rosalie grabs his arm and pulls him out the front door.  She places her hand on Krissy’s forehead.  “You’re all healed up, but you need to rest.”  Krissy nods and Mia helps her lay down on the couch.  Shea takes the bottle from Mia and downs it.  She starts to change into her cloth armor.  Adrenaline is flooding her system.  She dresses in record time and twirls her staff onto her back.  She snatches up her bag and loads her belt with potions.  She snaps her fingers and Sky flies through her rift.  “Mia, write to Josephine.  Let her know we need to focus our efforts on getting those elven devices up and running. The veil must be weaker here than we thought.  Also have her reach out to everywhere I’ve been since closing the Breach to see if anymore have opened, particularly in Amaranthine and Kirkwall.  Have her mobilize anyone she can to send aid.  Healers, troops, scouts.  She knows the drill.”  Mia nods and Shea heads out the front door.

She might be being overly cautious about the whole thing, but it worries her immensely that new rifts are opening even with the Breach gone.  She can tell by the look in Cullen’s eyes that he is having the same thought.  He pats Rosalie on the back.  “Go back inside and lock yourselves in.  That rift is too close for comfort.”

“Will that keep the demons out?”

“They shouldn’t even get close enough, but it will make me feel better.”

“Alright.  I’m pretty good with a bow.  Do you… need my help?”

Shea shakes her head.  “This is what we do for a living.”

Cullen nods.  “Yes.  Leave this to the professionals.”

Rosalie chuckles.  “Don’t have to tell me twice.”  She points towards the hill.  “I didn’t stick around to find out where it was, but as I said, I was on the hill when I heard it open.”

Shea nods.  “Got it.  We’ll take care of it.”

They wait for her to go into the house before looking at each other.  Without a word they start towards the hill.  She finds that even though she is very pregnant, running isn’t entirely unpleasant.  That could be because she hasn’t done it in a while and her body is just excited to be seeing some action after so long without it.  Cullen seems to have the same pep in his step as she does.  When she looks over at him, he is actually smiling.  She chuckles and it catches his attention.  “Something amusing?”

“How sad is it that we’re finding joy in running head long into battle to seal a rift?”

“Especially since Krissy and Noah got hurt?”

“Well, they are fine now.  But yes.”

He chuckles.  “I’m not sure farm life is for us.  This right here is evidence of that.”

“What? Happily running into danger or not batting an eyelash when I saw those two covered in blood?”

He sighs.  “Has that become common place?  That we are used to seeing the people we love bleed?”

Her air come in shorts huffs as they ascend the hill.  She’s definitely out of shape.  “Not common place, per se.  I just think… we’re staying calm and doing what needs to be done… in that moment.”  They reach the top of the hill and she stops.  She leans forward with her hands on her knees.  “Maker, I’m out of shape.”

From the top of the hill, they can see the distinct glow of a rift in the middle of a small cluster of houses.  Cullen points it out.  “It’s not much further.  Krissy’s mother lives there.”

She straightens and follows his gaze.  “I thought her mother lived in town.”

“She does.  Technically.  South Reach is laid out in two parts.  The main town, where there’s trade and such.  Then the village a little ways away in attempt to avoid bandits.  At least I think that’s why it was set up that way.”

She starts jogging towards it.  “Well.  We shouldn’t keep them waiting.  I have a feeling I’m going to be busy the rest of the day.”

He nods and follows along beside her.  They jog in silence.  She might claim to be out of shape but she keeps up a steady pace and keeps up with him with apparent ease.  Her mark crackles as they get closer.  The rift isn’t a big one, but it has appeared right next to someone’s house.  The wall outside wall has been torn apart and the roof is slowly collapsing.  People are running from demons and screaming.  Shea wastes no time in using her mark of the rift to stun the demons in the area, giving the people a better chance of escape.  The battle begins in earnest as the demons sense the new threat in the area.  Cullen and Shea work like a well-oiled machine.  She focuses on creating barriers around the villagers as they flee.  She freezes a demon solid as it goes to strike Cullen’s flank.  He spins around to shatter it while engaged with the terror demon in front of him.

It goes into the ground and pops to right in front of her.  Using a combination of magic and staff hits, she makes quick work of it.  She sighs, missing her axe as usual, convinced that she would have finished it off faster if she had it.  This whole thing is so second nature to her now that her mind begins to wander even as she electrocutes a shade.  Where is she going to get more lyrium when she uses it all today?  Just a glance around the village, she could tell she is going to be healing people well into the night.  She hopes she doesn’t deplete herself before she can recharge.  Is this ever going to end?  The Breach has been closed for months yet the Veil has been damaged and no one knows how to fix it.  Would this be her life?  Would she spend the rest of her days closing rifts over and over again?  That thought depresses her a little.  Sure, she couldn’t see them having a traditional domestic life, but she at least hopes they don’t have to be nomadic.  Which they would be if this is to be her fate.

Something smacks into her back and she looks over her shoulder.  Her favorite half-smirk is already set on his face.  “We have got to stop meeting like this.”  A large smile breaks across her face as her eyes lock with the pool of gold that shine back at her.  In that moment, she realizes it really doesn’t matter if they are nomads.  As long as those golden eyes greet her every morning and are that last things she sees before bed, it doesn’t matter.  Raising a family might be hard, but as long as they are together, the setting doesn’t matter.

He can see that she’s been thinking.  Something in her ocean colored irises tell him she has something on her mind.  Something other than fighting demons and closing a rift.  The only time his mind is clear is on the battlefield.  No withdrawal.  No nightmares.  Just the fight in front of him.  He always did his best thinking after a good fight, but something is distracting her.  Otherwise, he would never have had to come to her aid.  He makes a mental note to ask her about it later before turning back to the demon attacking him.

It takes much longer to get the rift closed than it normal does.  She is used to a team of people and has to use her mark more than she normally would, which means she is in for a few days of flare ups that will strike without warning.  That also means she is going to be spending a lot of time in their room, away from the eyes of his siblings.  Thinking of his siblings takes her mind to Branson.  Someone is going to need to inform him that his wife and son had been hurt and healed.  Though she guesses it could wait.  It probably isn’t safe to contact or distract him right now.

As soon as the rift closes, Cullen rushes into the crumbling house to search for survivors.  Without the rift, the roof and damaged wall become unstable.  Shea recalls how Dorian used his magic to seal a darkspawn tunnel and rebuild a small bridge in the Western Approach.  She summons what is left of her magic in an attempt to at least stabilize the house so that it doesn’t come crashing down on her future husband.

He comes rushing out with a child in his arms and two adults right behind him.  He nods to her, she releases her magic and falls to one knee as her strength gives out.  The house shakes and falls in on itself.  She reaches into the pouch on her belt and grabs a bottle of lyrium.  She shots it down and tosses it in the remains of the house.  Her blood sings to life and her energy is fully restored.  People start coming out of their homes as Shea places her hand on the child in Cullen’s arms.  “She’ll be alright.  She’s resting now.”

The two adults fall to their knees in front of her.  “Maker smile upon you!”

“Thank you, your Worship.”

A crowd gathers around them.  People reach out and touch her.  Thanking the Maker and Andraste for sending her to them.  It feels like Haven all over again.  She fights to push those thoughts away.  She has work to do still.  People to heal.  A report to write.  She looks around and sees a large barn.  “Whose barn is that?”

An elderly man raises his hand.  “Mine, your Worship.”

“Could we borrow it?  It will be easier if we gather the injured in one place.”

“Of course.  It would be my honor”

The people bustle around them.  Cullen hands the sleeping little girl to her parents.  He wraps his arm around her shoulders.  “Come, my love.  Let’s find you a place to rest while they bring you people to heal.”

She allows him to lead her away from the people who are still gathered and into the barn.  He finds a stool for her to sit and motions for her to have a seat.  She seems lost in thought and he decides to let it slide.  She has exhausted her magic twice today and is well on her way to doing it again.  He won’t be surprised if she uses up her stash.  People mill around the barn, laying out blankets on the ground, and bringing people to lay on them.  He moves to stand behind her.  He places his hands on her shoulders.  They are both filthy.  Fighting demons is not exactly clean work.

She pats his hand with one of hers and he bends down to kiss the top of her head.  She tries to distract herself, but watching these people filter in she is reminded that this is the first rift she can recall that formed in the center of a populated area.  The closest she can recall is the one in Kirkwall, but even then it hadn’t destroyed someone’s home.  They have been lucky that more people haven’t been hurt or killed because of these rifts and demons.  The Inquisition made clearing people away from the danger a priority early on.  But with a since of calm and complacency slowly creeping back into their lives after the Breach, it only highlights the need to stabilize the weakened Veil more than ever.  Maybe that’s how she can placate Ferelden.   If she can stop more rifts from opening and focusing that on big cities like Amaranthine and Denerim, then maybe they will back off for a little while.  She shakes her head and stands.  She needs to focus on the issues in front of her before trying to fix a problem no one knows how to fix yet.

***

Being the foremost expert on rifts, Shea is correct in assuming that rifts would pop back up in the areas where the Veil is more heavily damaged.  The Blackmarsh in Amaranthine.  Kirkwall, but not in the city itself this time.  Scouts spotted a few near where the Temple of Sacred Ashes and Haven used to be.  A few have been reported in or near Redcliffe.  Kinloch Hold sent word that one opened in the Harrowing Chamber.  There aren’t as many as there were before she closed them.  Orlais is surprisingly lacking of rifts.  She assumed there would be a few more in the Dales but so far none have been reported.

She sits on their bed feeling completely drained, working on a time table for closing them.  It has been a few days since closing the one in South Reach.  Between her mark flaring off and on and not being fully recovered from using so much magic in one day, she is spent.  Cullen has been running interference with his family in attempt to buy her some peace and quiet.  She’s not getting the sleep she needs, she’s been having nightmares again.  The same one as before, but it’s more aggressive this time.  She hasn’t had the strength to escape it despite her best efforts.

She sets her quill down and rubs her eyes.  She knows she must look like a mess, but she can’t seem to find the will or energy to fight the dreams that haunt her.  She is actually a little grateful that the mark wakes her in the night and gives her the escape she needs.  She wonders why she’s having trouble recharging her magic.  She is out of lyrium but still has access to the Fade.  Her head throbs and the mark flares.  She clutches her fist to her chest and hisses.  It’s been months since she’s thought of Solas.  He would know how to help her.  At least she thinks he would.  If she knew how to combat the flaring, or what caused them even with the Breach long gone, then she might be able to recharge her batteries with a little more ease.

The only relief she has received in the days since closing the rift is the message she receives from Branson.  He is on his way back and has already sent off the information he gathered at Redcliffe.  He should be back in a couple of days.  Which means she needs to plan her last few trips before she’ll be forced to stay at Skyhold.  The rifts might have to wait, but she hopes stepping down as Leliana’s Right Hand will appease Ferelden enough until she is in a condition to travel again.

According to her daily tracker, she has passed the six month mark.  She has very little time left and they haven’t had a single opportunity to prepare their quarters for a new addition.  She is certain that Josie has been making arrangements and not telling her about it.  The ambassador has become very adept at only telling her things that she needs to know.  If Shea asks, Josie will tell her what she wants to know, but until then she is kept in the dark.  Stress is not good for her right now according to her book, yet her job doesn’t exactly provide a stress free environment.  She finds that she is homesick.  She misses those stone walls and the friends who live within them.  That realization gives her the motivation to keep planning.

A small knock of the door breaks her from her reverie.  “Come in.”

Rosalie sticks her head in the door.  “I come bearing gifts.”

Shea smiles weakly.  “Oh really?  And you managed to slip by my sentinel?”

Rosalie steps in the room and closes the door behind her.  In her hands is a tray of food and a wooden box.  “Mia is distracting him.  So, I took advantage of the opening.  How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Well, maybe this will help.”  She sets the tray and box on the bed.  “First off.  Mia is not happy about how little you’ve eaten in the past few days, so I’m not allowed to leave the room until you’ve finished this.  Also, a package arrived for you today.  One of your people brought it this morning.”

Shea picks the streaming bread off the table and smells it.  She eyes close and she sighs happily.  She nibbles at it before reaching for the box.  Right on top is note in a familiar script.  She smiles and picks it up.

 

_Darling Shea,_

_I hope you return soon.  This whole sitting around Skyhold thing is dreadfully boring.  And Josie informs me that all that work we did sealing rifts has started to come undone.  If my instincts are correct, which they typically are, I bet you are in dire need of the contents in this box.  I’m sure country life doesn’t provide you with access to the finer things, so enjoy._

_Your one true love,_

_Dorian Pavus_

_P.S. Have you and that gorgeous Fereldan of yours used the item Bull helping him purchase?  If you have and haven’t sent to me all the details, I will be quite cross._

She shakes her head and folds the note.  Her face flushes when remembers that Rosalie is in the room.  She quickly pulls the first item from the top of the box.  It’s a black silk robe.  Her face flushes even more and a little gasp escapes Rosalie.  “Maker.  Who would send you something like that?”

She chuckles.  “Dorian.”

“Oh.  That’s your mage friend from Tevinter, right?”

“Right.  He does this kind of thing a lot.  He enjoys embarrassing me.”

She chuckles.  “Can you imagine the look on my dear brother’s face if you walked in wearing that?”

“Don’t tempt me.”  They share a laugh.  Shea peers into the box and sighs loudly.  “Maker bless him.”  She pulls out one of the multiple bottles of lyrium and downs it.  She takes a deep breath and smiles as she feels her magic fully recharge.  “Oh.  I’m going to sleep well tonight!”

Rosalie smiles.  “Well that’s good.  What else is in there?”

She peers into the box and moves things around.  “More lyrium.  Oooh.  Bath oils.  And what’s this?”  She pulls out a velvet wrapped circular box.  The little note is stuck on it.

 

_Don’t you dare let him convince you this is from him!  This is from my personal stash. ~Josie_

She hums.  “Ever had chocolate from Antiva?”

Rosalie shakes her head.  “I don’t think so.”

Shea chuckles.  “Oh you would know if you had.  Dorian might be the resident wine expert, but Josie has him beat when it comes to sweet treats.  Here.  Try one.”  She pulls the lid off the box and holds it out to her.  The chocolates are all exquisitely decorated, some are even brightly colored instead of varied shades of brown.  Rosalie studies each piece.

“Which one should I try?”

“They are assorted, so it’s a bit like rolling the dice.  If these were Orlesian, I’d say avoid the gold ones.  Typically the fancier it is, the more disgusting it is.  Apparently, the ham at the Winter Palace while we were there tasted of despair.”

“How can something taste of despair?”

“That was my question.  I made it a point to avoid it.”  She points to plain looking dark brown ball.  “I usually go for the plain ones first.  Just to be safe.”

Rosalie plucks the indicated piece from the box and further examines it.  “Do I just eat the whole thing or bite it?”

“I usually bite it first.  That way if it’s gross, I don’t have to finish it.  Be careful though.  Sometimes they are full of liquid.  One time, I ruined one of my shirts because wine spilled out of it.”

Rosalie bites the chocolate in half and closes her eyes.  She hums and quickly shoves the other half in her mouth.  “That’s… heavenly.”

“What was in it?”

“A fruity cream.  I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“Was it light pink?”  She nods.  “Raspberry.  One of my favorites.  The actual berry is good too.  Weird texture, but it tastes good.”  Shea’s hand hovers over the box and plucks out a white and black checkered square.  “Last time this was filled with this bright red goo.  I’m actually not sure what it tastes like because Cullen always steals it from me.”  She licks her lips and brings it to her mouth.  The door opens and Cullen sees her about to bite into the chocolate.

He lunges forward before they even notice he’s in the room and grabs her wrist.  “Now.  Now.  You know that one is my favorite.”

She groans.  “You never let me have this one.  And Josie sent these to me.  So by rights.  This one is mine.”

Rosalie chuckles.  “You would you really take food from a pregnant woman?  Shame on you, ser.”

He shakes his head and releases her wrist.  He sits next to her on the bed.  “You won’t like it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you.”

Rosalie smirks.  “Then maybe I could try it.  For quality control.”

He laughs.  “We’ll like it.  Shea won’t.”

“Is this some Ferelden thing?”

He chuckles.  “No.  I just know how you feel about liquefied strawberries.”

She holds it to him and he flashes her that signature grin.  He takes the chocolate and her fingers into his mouth.  She bites her lip as he slides her fingers from between his lips.  Rosalie chuckles.  “Maybe I should go.”

He chuckles and Shea shakes her head.  “Nonsense.  He’s just being a little naughty today.  Pay him no mind.”  She snatches another chocolate from the box and pops it quickly into her mouth.  He moves to stop her and groans when he is too late.  “That’s payback.”

Rosalie laughs.  “Another of his favorites?”

“Yep.”

He scoops up the whole box and stands.  “If you are going to educate Rosalie on the joys of Antivan chocolate, it is only fair if you share with the others.”

“Go on ahead then.  I need to get dressed.” Rosalie hops off the bed and grabs the tray of food.  She and Cullen leave the room.  She pulls herself off the bed and removes her all of her comfortable clothes.  She stands there completely naked looking down at the silky robe on the bed.  She doesn’t actually know if she’s brave enough to wear it in front of everyone.  She decides she better not and throws on one of her dresses.  She still feels pretty tired, but she knows that a sound and potentially dreamless sleep is in her future.

She goes into the kitchen and everyone is already gathered around.  She sits in front of the tray of food and begins eating as the chocolates are passed around.  They have a pleasant evening telling stories that revolve around their exploits in Orlais.  Parties, fancy clothes, masks, and the Game.  They skip the part where he broke up with her.  It is water under the bridge and something neither one of them want to talk about.  It is starting to get late and Shea wants to take advantage of her care package from Dorian before she is too tired to do anything about it.

She stands from the table and begins to bid them good night when her mark flares.  It’s the first time they’ve actually seen it happen.  She had almost forgotten about it during their joyous evening.  She barely manages to keep the cry of pain in.  She braces herself on the table and is acutely aware of the eyes upon her.  She squeezes her fist closed and flees, staggering from the room.  The door to their room slams. 

Cullen sighs.  All eyes are now on him.  She has fought so hard to hide this from them.  To save them from having to see the pain she feels.  “I’m sure you have questions.”

“Aren’t you going to check on her?”

He looks down the table at Mia.  “This isn’t new for her.  For either of us.  She tells me the pain doesn’t even come close to how painful these… flare ups were when the Breach was active.  We don’t know why it still flares now that it’s sealed, but she has noticed that now the flares only happen after she’s uses it.  Or more accurately, when she uses the mark after a long period of not using it.”

They are all quiet for some time before Rosalie speaks.  “She’s going to have to suffer that pain the rest of her life, isn’t she?”

He nods.  “The mark is permanent and there is no way to predict when a flare will happen.  It’s harmless to everyone else.  Just a little blinding if you are looking directly at it when it happens.  For her… it feels like lightning shooting up her arm.  They don’t last for very long, but they are painful.  She has been trying to spare you all from seeing her like that.  It’s the primary reason she’s been holed up in our room since closing that rift a few days ago.”

None of them know how to respond to that.  Cullen stands from the table.  Mia stands with him.  “Wait.  Before you go.  I have one last question.”

“Alright.”

“Is she in constant pain?  Or just when a flare happens?”

“Her hand in tender after a flare, but I think she is in a little bit of pain all the time.  She’d never say so, but sometimes I can see it in her eyes.  It’s better and more tolerable now, yet I don’t think the pain will ever truly go away.”

“Marker’s mercy.  That’s a hard way to live.”

He nods.  “I’m going to turn in for the night.  She’s obviously upset.  I’m sure you understand.”

They all nod and mumble their goodnights as he walks down the hall.  He doesn’t bother knocking and bolts the door behind him.  In that short amount of time, she has already managed to change back into her sleep clothes.  She is sitting on the edge of the bed with her palms pressed into her eye sockets.  He knows she wants nothing more than to hug her knees and rest her forehead on them, but she can’t.  This is the best she can do.  The care package and her papers are in the floor next to the bed.  He kicks off his boots, peels off his shirt and socks.  He sits next to her and places his large, callused hand on the back of her neck.  She instantly moves to lean into him.  She presses her face into his bare chest and his arms encircle her.  He doesn’t say a word.  He just rubs her back and waits.

“Are they… upset?”

He kisses the top of her head.  “No, love.  Concerned, but not upset.”

“I hate that they had to see that.”

He rubs her back and nuzzles his face into her hair.  “I know, love.”  He holds her for a while.  He can hear in her voice that she’s still in pain.  He prays that one day she’ll be free of it, but knows that it’s futile to hope for that.  Despite everything they’ve learned through this whole experience, the mark is still mostly a mystery.  If he could take that pain away as he did before, he would.  Yet he knows she won’t allow that.  He needs to distract her from her shame and pain.  “How’s the planning going?”

Her fingers trace the lines of his muscles absentmindedly.  “I think I have it mostly worked out.”  She pulls away enough to look up at him.  “If my calculations are correct, and if the weather behaves, then I can get to Val Royeaux and back in a month.  But that’s just travel time from here with a stop in Redcliffe and Skyhold.  That does not include how long we’d stop or how long we’d be in Val Royeaux.   I would like to take Rosalie with us while things are calm… well, calmer.  We have about a month and a half of wiggle room before I’m stuck in Skyhold.”

“Why a month and a half?”

“We don’t know when the baby will want to come.  I would like to be stationary six weeks from my due date.  It’s Ann’s request.”

“Ann?”

“The midwife from Val Royeaux.”

“Oh.  Right.  The author of this book we’ve taken months to read.”

She chuckles as her fingers trace the muscle on his shoulder.  “Exactly.  Though I finished it yesterday.  I even wrote her with a few questions.  Thus the whole six stationary weeks before my due date thing.  So, if we leave as soon as Branson gets back, then we should get back to Skyhold in plenty of time and you should have time to escort Rosalie back here.  If not, then she’ll have to stay with us until you can get away.  Granted you could always leave me to care for our baby alone for a little while, but I’m guessing that’s completely out of the question.”

“You’d be right.  I’m sure Rosie won’t complain about being stuck in Skyhold for a while.”

“Stuck?”  She laughs.  “I imagine a certain mage and mercenary are going to do their very best to corrupt your dear sister.”

He shakes his head.  “Maker, I hope not.  Mia would have my head if I allowed that.”  He brushes her hair behind her ear and runs his thumb down the scar on her face.  The moonlight is steaming in through the small window and the little orbs floating around the room make her skin glow.  He feels the familiar pull on his heart when he looks at her.  “I don’t feel like I say this enough.  You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She smiles and hums.  “So, I’m a thing now?”

He kisses her lightly.  “You know what I mean.”

She wraps her hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down to her.  Her lips met his and he responds instantly.  There is a heat, but also tenderness in their kiss.  She begins to lean back, pulling him down with her.  Then she breaks the kiss with a hiss.  Bright green light fills the room as the mark flares again.  They both sit back up and she growls.  She stands up off the bed and paces as she clutches her angry fist.  “Three days.  It’s been three days.  It didn’t flare this much last time I closed a rift.”

“You think something is causing it to flare?”

“Possibly.  Not an outside force.  Maybe it’ll calm down now that my magic has been restored completely.”

“I thought I heard…”

She spins a looks at him.  “Maker.  I didn’t even think.  And I’m sure that empty bottle is just laying around somewhere.”

“It’s fine.  I’m not worried about it.  My concern right now is you.  I would feel a lot better if you could get some sleep.”

“Me too.  Obviously.”  She plays with a loose strand of her hair as the mark calms.  “Do you… do you think the mark is flaring to keep me awake?”

“Why would it be doing that?”

She sits next to him on the bed and faces him.  “I told you my nightmare is back?”  He nods.  “And I told you it is different than before and I am too weak to escape?”  He nods again.  “Well, what if there is actually something attacking me in the Fade and I am unable to escape it on my own?  The mark has always done what it needs to do to keep me alive.  Pulling me into the Fade at the Conclave.  And at Adamant.  Warning me about rifts and demons.  Hell, it even warned me about Corypheus’s final attack.  Maybe there’s a real danger in my nightmare and the mark flares so I’ll wake before whatever it is gets whatever it wants.”

He mulls that over for a little while.  He takes her hand and gently traces the edges of the mark.  “It makes sense, I suppose.  I’m hardly an expert on this sort of thing.”

She sighs and watches his fingers move in her palm.  “It’s times like this that I miss Solas.”

He looks up at her.  “Now, that’s not a name I’ve heard in a long while.  Does his voice still pop up in this nightmare you have?”

“No.  It’s just me and the hooded thing now.  I barely have time to get my bearings before it comes to me.  It still says the same thing though.  Garas, da’len.  Over and over again.  But it is far less seductive than it was before.  Less… enticing.  It’s more of a command now.  Come, child.  I still haven’t figure out why it’s that phrase.  I mean the child part is clearly speaking to my elven blood.”

“Are you so certain you are being attacked?”

She tilts her head to the side and goes quiet.  “It feels like an attack.  An attack on my magic.  On my soul.  Like it’s trying to pull it out of me.  Take it from me.  I dread to think about what would happen if it succeeded.”

“Maybe there’s some elven lore on this thing.  I know that information is hard to come by, but maybe Moira could look into it.  She might not have thought to look in it.”

She sighs.  “She hasn’t had much luck… although she’s not my only resource.  Maybe I should reach out to Abelas.”

“The ancient elf from the Temple of Mythal?  We don’t know where he is or if he’s even still alive.  Didn’t he say something about going to sleep like the elves of old?  The eternal slumber?”

“It can’t hurt to try, right?  He didn’t hate me completely when it was all said and done.”

“How would you even begin to find him?”

“Well, first I can write him a letter in elven.  Maybe earn some points with him.  Then send Sky out looking.  If she can’t find him, then he doesn’t want to be found.”

He caresses her face.  “You look exhausted, love.”  She nods.  “Think you can get to sleep?”

“I can try.  I’m hoping I can walk the Fade tonight instead of being tortured all night.”

“Or maybe just escape your nightmare to get some decent rest.”

“I’d be happy with that too.”  He stands and strips.  She raises her eyebrow and he chuckles. 

“As tempting as that eyebrow is, you need rest.”  He quickly pulls on his pants and pulls back the covers.  He crawls under them and lays on his side.  She joins him and he pulls her to him.  She rolls onto her side with her back facing him and he curls around her.  She’s out before he can even say good night.  He nestles into the nape of her neck and inhales her scent.  He makes a silent prayer that she gets some much needed sleep and that her dreams are peaceful.  Lord knows she needs a break.

***

After two consecutive nights of restful sleep, Shea feels like her normal self.  She hasn’t had a single nightmare and the mark is finally calm.  She receives a message from Branson in the middle of the night to meet him in town with Cullen.  She has a sinking felling she knows what this is about.  His request is to not tell Cullen why she needs to go into town.  To make up some story that he’ll believe and that won’t raise any red flags with the family.  She still hasn’t come up with anything as she dresses for the day.  Their days in South Reach are numbered.  They need the leave for Skyhold within a few days and she feels a little conflicted taking any of that time away from his family.

That phrase sticks in her mind.  His family.  Not their family.  She wonders if there is a reason she hasn’t made that distinction yet.  She’s been called “sister” more than once, yet for some reason she doesn’t see them as her own family yet.  She doesn’t really know how to feel about that.  She pushes the thought from her mind and scoops her boots off the ground.  She walks down the hall and sees Cullen reading while sipping his still steaming tea.  She drops her boots on the floor next to him.  He smirks and turns his face towards her.  She plants a kiss on his lips before sliding into the seat next to him.

“Good Morning, my love.”

She examines the paper in front of him.  “What does Josie have to say today?”

He returns his attention to page in front of him.  “One of Leliana’s scouts has successfully infiltrated Redcliffe castle as well as the Chantry there.  A feat to be sure.  He has found some interesting information, though she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing more than that.  She is suggesting we head back soon.”

She nods.  “It has been quite a long time since we’ve been here.  It was only a matter of time.”  And the opportunity she needs presents itself perfectly. “We should go into town and get supplies for the trip back.”

He nods and sips his tea.  “An excellent idea.  Josie says the carriage should be here within a day or so.  But we’ll need other things.  When would you like to go?”

“I’ll be ready once I get something to eat and you help me with those.”  She motions to her boots.

“Mia made muffins.  They are on the table.  I’ll get you some tea.”  He stands up and moves to the stove.  He makes it the way she likes it and hands it to her.  She savors the warmth of the cup in her hands before taking a sip.  He plucks a muffin from the basket on the table and sets it in front of her before sitting back down to finish reading.  He watches her pick at the muffin and pull piece off before putting it in her mouth.  Something is clearly on her mind.  He never points it outs.  She might be able to hide her expressions, but this, this nervous eating, is something she has never been able to hide.  He’s fairly certain that she isn’t even aware she does it.  If he points out, he knows she’ll stop doing it and then he’ll never know when something is on her mind.

He folds his paper and sticks it in his pocket.  He downs the rest of his tea.  He kisses her temple.  “Let me know when you are done.  I’m going to get the wagon ready.”

“Alright, sweetheart.”

He heads out the front door.  He spots Mia in the barn and goes to her.  “Good morning, dear sister.”

She chuckles.  “What do you want, dear brother?”

“I need to borrow your horse and wagon.  Shea and I need to run into town to get somethings for…”

She looks down at the ground.  “It’s that time then?”

He nods.  “We still have a two days, maybe three, before the carriage arrives.”

“Then we’ll make the most of this time we have together before I have to send you off again.”

He places his hand on her shoulder.  “You will see me again.  And it won’t be nearly twenty years this time.  I wanted to ask you if you would permit Rosalie to come with us.  It would be some time before she returned but if it’s going to happen, this is the time.  Things across Thedas are calm for the first time in ages.”

Mia nods.  “I need to remember that you are all adults.  Your lives are your own.  Should she choose not to return, that is her choice.  I would miss her dearly, but she should be free to experience the things she wants to.  Most people don’t get that opportunity.  Even Branson has travelled abroad.  She should get that chance too.”

“You’ve changed a lot in these few weeks.  I heard you call her sister yesterday.  I take it that means you’ve accepted her?”

She smiles.  “She really is a lovely girl and she cares for you deeply.  I think that’s all I can ask for.  Branson’s letter said he’d be home by nightfall, so if you are going to town you should hurry so that you are back by the time he returns.”

Mia briefly hugs her brother before heading into one of the fields.  Cullen quickly readies the horse and wagon.  He makes a mental checklist of the things they will need as he heads back into the house.  She is seated on the couch patiently waiting for him to return.  He kneels in front of her and she smiles.  “Are you going to miss having to put my boots on for me?”

He smirks.  “Are sure you’ll remember how when you are able to do it yourself?”  She kicks him gently and he laughs.  He finishes his work and stands.  He helps her stand and pulls her into an embrace.  “I enjoy taking them off more than I enjoy putting them on.”

She laughs as he nuzzles his face into her hair.  “I bet you do.”  She playfully shoves him.  “Come on.  We’ve should get going.”

“If you insist.  Though.  If we finish our shopping early, maybe we can rent a room before we come back.”

She runs her hands up his chest.  “Mmm.  That could be fun.  It has been a while.”

“That’s an understatement, my love.”

She winds her arms around his neck and pulls him down to her height.  “Then what are we waiting for?”  She kisses him and he wraps his arms more firmly around her.  His kiss is hot with an edge of desperation.  She chuckles and pulls away.  “Now, now.  If you start that up, we won’t make it to the inn.”  She slips out of his grasp and takes his hand.  “Let’s go before you get us both into trouble.” He smirks and lets her drag him from the house.

***

As soon as they pull into town, she spots his horse outside the tavern.  It won’t take Cullen long to notice either.  She is right.  “It seems Branson has already returned.  I wonder why he told Mia he wouldn’t be back until tonight.”

“Maybe we should find out.”

He looks over at her as he slows the wagon to a stop outside the shop.  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the secret you’ve been keeping, would it?”

“I’m not sure.  It’s possible.”  She motions towards the tavern.  “There is only one way to find out.”

“I suppose so.”  He climbs down from the wagon and helps her down.  They walk hand in hand towards the tavern.  He greets his horse briefly on the way.  She whinnies and shakes out her mane.  He smirks.  He never thought he’d become attached to a horse, but they’ve been through a lot together.  She really needs a name though.  Especially since they’ve bonded.  Shea leads him into the tavern.  There are a few people milling around, but one figure stands out among the rest.  An Inquisition scout is leaning on the bar with their back to the room.  He looks down at her.  “Why is there a scout here?”

“Leliana’s people are everywhere.  Is that really so surprising?”

There’s only one scout that she knows of in the area.  It is a bold move to reveal himself this way and in such a public place.  He nods to the barkeep before setting some coin on the counter.  He disappears up the stairs and she moves to follow him.  Cullen pulls on her hand.  “We probably shouldn’t disturb them.  They are probably on some mission.”

She makes eye contact with the barkeep and he motions for her to approach.  She leads Cullen to the bar.  “He’s expecting you.”  He slides a key across the bar and she scoops it up.

Cullen’s hand itches to have his sword nearby.  He doesn’t like this cloak and dagger stuff.  Shea nods and takes the key.  She turns to face him.  “Are you coming with me?”

“Naturally.  What have you gotten us into?”

She chuckles.  “It’s nothing dangerous, I assure you.”

“Then lead the way.”  She leads him up the stairs.  She worries how he’s going to react.  This is big news.  It’s been weighing on her for weeks now.  But this is Branson’s decision and she hopes Cullen will see that.  She hopes that he will see that he inspired his brother to do something more with his life.  Yet she knows his withdrawals make him quick to anger.  If that happens, he will likely be mad at both of them.  She looks down at the key in her hand.  She looks for the door with the correct number scratched into it.  She stops outside the correct door and looks over at him.  He is anxious as to what they will find.  What could this scout possibly want?

She sticks the key in the lock and pushes the door in.  The room is fairly dark, though it is the middle of the day.  She sends a few orbs into the air to illuminate the room.  The scout is standing with their back to the door with their hood up.  When Cullen clears the door way, she closes it behind him.  “Runner.  Yes?”  The scout nods.  This is it.  The moment of truth.  “Did Sister Nightingale tell you to reveal yourself?”  Another nod.  Even though she can’t see his face, the way he shifts on his feet and doesn’t verbally answer her questions is all the context clues she needs.  She squeezes Cullen’s hand before pulling away from him.  She walks around the scout and leans on the wall next to the window in front of him.  Branson meets her eyes.  She whispers her encouragement.  “Treat it like a bandage.  Just ripe it off.  He’s unarmed, if that helps.”  A smile smirk flashes across his nervous face.  She pats his arm and returns to Cullen.  “Runner here has been a hidden agent in this area since the Breach.  As his name suggests, his job until recently has been to be a runner between Denerim and Redcliffe.  We have him to thank for tracking down the former Lord Seeker to Caer Oswin when no one else could get close enough.  He is also the man who infiltrated Redcliffe.”

Cullen crosses his arms over his chest.  “You must be very skilled to be able to manage such things.  I have to ask.  If you have been successfully hiding all this time, why reveal your identity now?”

“Those are my orders.”  Cullen knows the voice instantly.  Branson lowers his hood and turns to face them.  Cullen’s feels fire flush through his system.  His eyes squint and his brows knit together.  “Before you get mad at me, or Shea, you have to understand that this is not what I had in mind when I was inspired by your example to sign up for the Inquisition.  I expected to be a soldier, but Harding saw something more useful in me and Sister Nightingale thought it best for me to help undercover.”

“Does your wife know?”

“Yes.  It didn’t feel right to keep this from her.”

He turns his angry gaze on Shea.  “And this is what you were keeping from me?”

She nods.  Branson steps forward.  “Don’t blame her.  I begged her not to tell you.  When the time was right, I wanted to be the one to break the news.  And in light of recent events, it was best to tell you now before you found out later.”

“Why now then?  Why tell me at all?”

“Redcliffe was a test for me.  Many scouts have failed where I have succeeded.  And not a soul knows I was there.  I’m good at this, brother.  But I’m also careful.  I have a family who needs me and I’m not about to take unnecessary risks when I don’t need to.   Because I succeeded where so many others have failed, I have been promoted.  This means more coin and bigger jobs.  Hell.  This is more than I ever expected.”  He sits down on the window seat.  “I’m being relocated.  To Val Royeaux.”

The air is knocked out of both of them.  “What about Krissy and Noah?”

“They can’t come with me.  Not yet.  It’s too dangerous right now.  Actually.  Dangerous is the wrong word.  My… position is… controversial.  And until we can garner what the reaction to my appointment is, I don’t feel comfortable bringing them with me.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable with that, if I’m honest.  Our lives are here.  Krissy and Noah have never known anything but here.  Mia is here and Rosalie too.  I might be gone for a long time, but I’ll write and visit often.  I’ve been assured that freedom.  I am reluctant to accept, but I want to.  It’s an important job.”

Cullen puts his hands on his hips.  “What is this position?  And why Val Royeaux?  If you are an agent of the Inquisition, shouldn’t that move you to Skyhold?”

Shea swallows hard.  The ring on her right middle finger suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.  “If this I what I think it is… it would be controversial indeed.  You’re a man, for one.”

Cullen looks over at her.  His mind is having a hard time following her train of thought.  Branson nods.  “It’s not a traditional arrangement by any means.  But she needs to fill the position with someone she knows she can trust.  This role is vital and who better than someone she helped train.”

Cullen shakes his head in frustration.  “Enough with the cat and mouse.  What is this position you have been offered?”

Branson takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff.  “We all know she is no stranger to making controversial decisions.  So, this might not be that far-fetched.”

Cullen growls.  “Who is she?  What is this job?”

“Divine Victoria.  She wants me to be her Left Hand.”

His eyes go wide.  “But… that’s… she knows better than anyone what that job entails.  She’s talked about the things she had to do for Divine Justinia V.  Do you think you can handle that?”

“The identity of the Left Hand is not usually known.  She has faith in my skill and so do I.  I would not even be considering this if I didn’t think I could do it.  As her current Right Hand, she wanted you to know.  And because I have to move, she wanted me to tell the family as well.  Not the whole thing.  Not that I will have such an important role.  She’s leaving it up to me as to what I’ll say, but she wanted me to be completely honest with the both of you.”  He sighs and crosses his arms.  “This secret hasn’t been easy to keep.  And Cullen, I can see that you are angry.  But your anger doesn’t scare me near as much as Mia’s.  I have no idea how I’m going to break the news to everyone.”

Shea sighs.  “I have a feeling she’ll place blame on me.  I am… was… your boss after all.”

“Only by technicality.”

They both look at Cullen.  He is still fuming.  “I wish someone trusted me enough to let me in on this.  I can’t blame you for joining.  I just wish I knew.  The work our spymaster does is… dangerous.  Risky.  You have a family.”

“Being a soldier is just as dangerous, brother.  More so, if you ask me.  Being a scout, my life is not always in danger.  As a soldier, death and bodily harm are a part of the job.  Haven.  Adamant.  The Arbor Wilds.  How many of the spymaster’s people died during those events?  And how many of your men died?  This whole damn world is dangerous.  You two know that more than anyone.  I’m not asking for your support or your blessing.  I just wanted you to know the whole truth.  So, there it is.”

Shea walks towards him and pats his arm.  “Have you thought about how you are going to tell the others?”

He shakes his head.  “I haven’t.  Any advice on how I go about doing that would be greatly appreciated.”

She looks back at Cullen.  “Any ideas?”

“And there’s no way to talk you out of this?”

Branson shakes his head.  “The Divine has asked me to be her Left Hand.  I gladly accept this honor.  And even if I can’t tell people the full extent of my position, I will serve her to the best of my abilities.  First things first though.  I have to be trained further and she wants to do so personally.  So, I’m going to Val Royeaux.  And that’s the end of it.”

Cullen nods.  “Then you should leave with us.  But you should wait to tell them you are leaving.  We’re asking Rosalie to come with us tonight.  Mia is already aware of this, but I don’t think she can handle two in one day.  Tell them about working for the Inquisition if you must, but don’t mention moving just yet.  Talk to your wife before talking to the family.  She knows Mia better than I do at this point.  She can better advise you on how to handle it.”

“You don’t seem angry anymore.”

“How can I judge you for doing something I have done myself?  Fighting for a cause you believe in.  A noble one at that.  If this is what you truly wish to do, then I will support you.”

They both blink at him.  This is not the reaction they were expecting.  Though he seems angry, it seems as though he is only angry at being left out of the loop.  “Thank you, Cullen.  I think your support will go a long way in helping them accept this change.”

“It won’t be easy convincing Mia that it’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.  Now, I should probably change and get ready to head home.”  The brothers embrace for a moment before Cullen heads from the door.  Branson pulls Shea into a hug.  “Thank you for keeping my secret.  I know that had to be hard.”

“It was.  Fortunately, I have an understanding fiancé.”

“I look forward to the day I can officially call you my sister.”

She smiles as they part.  “Me too.  I suppose the Left and Right Hands of the Divine will be travelling together for a while.”

He smiles brightly.  “I guess so.”

She takes Cullen’s hand as they leave the tavern.  He is quiet as they head back to the wagon.  He turns to face her.  “I wish you had told me.”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell, sweetheart.”

He shakes his head.  “I get that.  It’s just… I sent reports to Runner.  Sent him on missions that I would not have normally sent my own brother on.  I would not have been able to live with myself if I got my own brother killed.”

She runs her thumbs down his scar and rests her hand on his jaw.  “It wouldn’t have changed anything.  If you had known, I mean.  He was and is still under Leliana’s command.  If you had known, you would have still been powerless to protect him.”

“I could have insisted that she release him into my service.  Then at least I would know all the details of his missions and better assess the danger.”

“I know you think that, but I think it’s better this way.”

He brushes her hair behind her ear.  “Maybe you’re right.  I have a hard enough time worrying about you.  To have the worry about his wellbeing on top of that would have been a torture all its own.”  He looks over at the empty wagon.  “We really should get supplies for our trip to Skyhold.  Especially if we’re keeping this meeting from everyone else for the time being.”

“Then let’s go shopping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 30, 2018


	23. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sooooo much for sticking with me! I told you I wasn't done with this story. My writer's block has finally broken and I have a short break before my schedule fills up again. I'm taking advantage of the time I have while I have it! Enjoy the chapter!

Everyone is gathered in the living room.  The atmosphere is somber but charged with excitement.  Rosalie has packed and so has Branson.  Mia has been unable to look at her siblings for long while now.  It’s been two days since Branson’s return and she has yet to respond to his news.  He didn’t tell them that he was going to be the Left Hand of the Divine, but he did tell them he’s been working for the Inquisition since the Breach and that he is being stationed in Val Royeaux.  Krissy had taken the news extremely well.  She would stay in South Reach with Mia and raise their child.  He has promised to come back every chance he gets, but he doesn’t know when that will be.

Mia was furious at first.  At both Branson and Cullen, though he had assured her that this was news to both Shea and the Commander.  Now, she is mostly sad.  She feels like her family is drifting apart and she can’t help but blame the newest addition.  If Shea had never entered their lives, this probably wouldn’t be happening.  That’s her current mindset, at least.  She can’t bring herself to say the words, but all the work she has done to be accepting of her has crumbled away.  It’s irrational, she knows this, but she can’t stop herself from placing the blame on the Inquisitor.  Her siblings have always had minds of their own and it should come as no surprise that they are now leaving the nest.  She has no faith the her sister will return and if this station is permanent, then Krissy and Noah will likely be leaving to join him one day.  Then she’ll be all alone.

Shea is tempted to cancel her trip with Rosalie or to at least delay it until after the baby is born. She still needs to take the trip, but maybe she could convince Rosalie to stay behind.  One look at the blonde’s face and Shea knows that isn’t an option.  Despite her brother leaving and Mia clearly being upset about it, the young woman is practically vibrating with excitement.  She sighs and looks over at Cullen.  He seems so at ease with this whole thing.  Maybe it’s because he has left home before or he’s just happy to be included in all the secrecy.  He looks over at her and she can see the worry in his eyes.  Maybe he isn’t as at ease as she assumed.  He clears his throat and everyone looks at him.  “I think it’s time we spoke our minds.  No judgements.  Just complete transparency.  Because this silence clearly means we’re not all happy about this.”

Mia crosses her arms and sinks further into her chair.  Krissy sighs.  “I’ll go first then. Since the biggest protestor isn’t ready to share.  I fully support Branson in this.  Do I want him to be home with us?  Certainly.  But can we really fault him for wanting to serve?  Cullen did the same thing and he was only 13 when he left home.  Branson is an adult and he doesn’t make this choice lightly.  We can make this work.”

Branson nods.  “I’m following our brother’s example here.  Following in his footsteps.  I know it’s hard to accept and I didn’t come to this decision lightly.  Would this be an issue if I wasn’t moving so far away?”

Rosalie nods.  “I think that’s the hardest part.  It’s not that you are fighting for a cause you believe in, I think it’s that you are going to be so far away and that this is all so sudden.  With Cullen, he knew since he was 8 that he wanted to be a templar.  You all knew what that meant.  We would likely never see him again.  Yet here he is.  Branson has a son and a wife and I don’t see him just leaving to never return.”

Branson nods.  “The world is more stable than it was over a year ago.  The danger is small.  The distance will be difficult for all of us, but as my wife put it, we can make this work.  I, for one, am better at writing letters than our dear brother and as I said I am free to visit as often as I can.  Opportunities like this don’t come up often and I would regret not taking this position in the future.”

Mia sighs.  “I think you are all misreading my melancholy.  I want you to have your own life experiences but I worry about the both of you.  And I will miss you terribly.  Krissy, Noah, and I will just have to make due until you return.”

It is the closest thing to approval they are likely to get.  They quickly jump to change the subject and Branson decides that he wants to get the field completely plowed before he leaves and asks Cullen to help him.  Everyone leaves the house except Shea and Mia.  Mia turns her gaze on her and she senses trouble.  Mia folds her arms.  “You really didn’t know?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Mia.”

“I just find it hard to believe that the Inquisitor doesn’t know who she has working for her.”

Shea sighs and shakes her head.  “I don’t know every scout or soldier in the Inquisition.  I dare say even Cullen doesn’t know the name of every soldier under his command.  Our spymaster knew, of course.  She is the master of secrets and if she thought it best to keep it from the both of us, then I trust it was with good reason.”

“And you trust her with his life?”

“I trust her with mine as well.  She is Divine after all.”

Mia’s mouth pops open.  “I never made that connection.”

“Do you see now why I trust her?”

Mia nods and then sighs.  “I know he is an adult, but I raised him.  For the most part.  They are both still children to me.  It’s hard to see them coming into their own and moving on without me.  Especially when I already know what it feels like to watch one of my siblings leave.”

Shea looks away from Mia.  Her own past coming back to rear its ugly head.  She wonders if the emotion her brothers showed was real, if they actually felt pain in her being sent off to join the templars.  It was entirely possible since Emeric didn’t know about his parentage yet and Brandon still had the event between them secretly tucked away.  She has no way of knowing.  “They are lucky to have you, Mia.  They know how deeply you care for them and that they will always have a place in your home.  They know that you love them and that you will always worry about them.  Branson’s career path might be taking him away, but he will come back.  They will all come back because they know they will always be welcomed home with open arms.”

Mia nods and heads towards the front door.  “I should make the most of the time we have left then.  Nothing I can say will prevent them from leaving.  So, I should be just as encouraging to them as I was to Cullen and hope they are better at writing letters.”

Shea sits alone now.  She blames herself for Mia’s pain more than she is willing to admit out loud.  She feels that her choices have led them to this.  So many of her choices have caused others pain in some form or fashion.  Yet she knows that she is only directly responsible for Rosalie leaving.  Branson made his own bed long before she was ever the Inquisitor.  Still, she is painfully aware that Mia places blame on her for losing her family.  All three siblings would be leaving with her when she leaves in a few days after all.  She knows Mia isn’t convinced that any of them will actually be coming back no matter how many times Rosalie promises or Branson tries to reassure her.  She sighs and tries to mentally prepare herself for the painful good bye that is sure to come.

***

Shea leans against the carriage Josephine has sent to carry them to Skyhold.  Unlike every other carriage, this one has windows.  She told Josephine it is her future sister-in-law’s first trip out of Ferelden and that must have translated to a request to ride in style.  It is the fanciest carriage Shea has seen since their time in Halamshiral, which makes Shea, Cullen, and Branson nervous.  Carriages like this are prime targets for bandits, which explain why the carriage is accompanied by a small entourage of Inquisition forces.  All of which are on horseback.

The siblings are inside saying goodbye and she is certain that is more than likely going to get heated and emotional.  Something she is less than interested in at the moment.  Nightmares hunt her in the Fade and though she slept, she didn’t sleep soundly.  Emotional goodbyes are not her forte.  She only has her upbringing to blame for that and even fighting to break out of the shadow of Trevelyan tradition, old habits die hard. She expects this the whole first leg of their trip to be uncomfortable if she is honest.  Emotional goodbyes led to pensive rides.

When the front door opens, she straightens in her spot next to the carriage.  Their belongings have already been loaded, so all that is left to bid their farewells.  Cullen exits the house first.  His expression tells her that he’s finding this harder than he anticipated.  She holds her hand out towards him as he approaches.  He laces his fingers with hers and offers her a weak, lopsided smile.

“You alright?”

He nods.  “I didn’t expect that to be so difficult.”

She runs her thumb down his scar and looks behind him at the open front door.  “Giving the others a little more time?”

“Indeed.  I think this whole thing is breaking my sister’s heart.”

She sighs and cups his jaw.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I wish I were more help in these situations.”

He reaches up to press her palm tighter against his face.  “You’re giving them space.  It’s what they need right now.  In this regard, I’m as much an outsider as you are.”

 “What do you mean?”

“They’ve said goodbye to me before.  And they have accepted that my life isn’t here.  They’ve known that for ages now.  Branson on the other hand... well… His leaving opens up some old wounds for Mia.  Namely the ones I put there.  She tries to be brave and supportive, but it’s the moment of truth and she’s a wreck.  Like my mother was the day I left.”

“He’ll be back.  This is his home.  No position will take that from him.”

He nods and turns his face to kiss her palm.  “Yes.  Well, I should probably…”

“It’s taken care of.  She’s saddled and ready to go.  I assumed you’d want to ride her back so I had one of your men get her ready.”

He smirks.  “You know me so well.”

“That I do.”  Movement in the doorway draws her attention.  “Here we go.”  He turns from her and watches his family exit the house.  The women are all red faced from crying while Branson cradles his son in his arms.  Shea nods to the solider nearest her and he moves to open the carriage door.  Mia yanks on Rosalie and pulls her into a tight hug.

“Be careful.  And I expect to hear every detail.”

Rosalie sniffles.  “I love you, Mia.”

“I love you as well.”  The sisters part and Rosalie bids farewell to Krissy with another tight hug.  She turns her attention to the giggling and squirming child.

“I’ll see you when I get back, little man.  Take care of your mother.”

“Ok!”  She kisses him quickly before rushing towards Shea and Cullen.  She wraps her arms around Cullen’s waist and he rubs her back.  Shea shifts on her feet knowing full well that this emotion will be turned on her soon.  Branson hands his son to his wife before pulling his older sister into a hug.

“I will keep my word, dear sister.  Please don’t worry too much about me.”

She smacks him in the side before settling back into the hug.  He pulls away before turning to his now sobbing wife.  Noah is gently wiping tears from her cheeks.  Branson cups her face and kisses her long and deep.  Shea turns her eyes away to give them a moment of privacy.  Cullen nudges her and she sees Mia approaching.  Shea steps forward to close the distance and gets pulled into a hug.  “Take care of them.”

“You know that I will.”

“Don’t be a stranger.  Despite our differences, I’m glad he found you.”

“As am I.”

Mia squeezes her before backing away.  Krissy takes her place and hugs her without words.  Shea says her goodbyes to mother and child.  The family converges around Cullen and she opts to step into the carriage and leave them to their final farewell.  She settles into the plush seat and looks out the window at nothing in particular.

Cullen feels conflicted about leaving them behind.  This may not be his home, but they are his only family.  His only connection to Ferelden and the life he could have led had he chosen a different path.  He didn’t expect it to be an easy goodbye, but part of him wants to just cast off his ties and responsibilities and stay.  Yet he knows Shea won’t stay.  Her responsibilities far outweigh his own and his life is nothing without her.  So, though these goodbyes are painful, he knows a future beyond anything he ever imagined for himself waits for him.  He watches his younger siblings climb into the carriage before mounting his horse.  He signals for the driver to go and the carriage lurches forward.  Rosalie and Branson both lean out the windows and wave to the family staying behind as they bump and sway down the town, until the little farm is out of sight.

***

The first leg of their journey is quiet.  No one talks to anyone else, all of them lost in their own thoughts.  They just stare out the windows.  Cullen rides beside her window and occasionally they carry on a silent conversation about how his siblings are doing.  She wishes she could ride with him.  The silence in the carriage is starting to drive her up the wall.

They have a little bit of a time limit and they opt to ride straight through to Redcliffe without stopping for more than an hour to rest and water the horses.  Shea is the biggest problem there.  Her bladder isn’t what it used to be, but those bathroom breaks are the only solace from the deafening quiet that is the carriage.

As they stop by the river to water the horses, Cullen approaches her.  She smiles warmly as he saunters her way.  “Maker please say something.  Anything.”

He smirks.  “They still aren’t talking?”

“No.  I’ve tried to get them talking, but something I said the last time made Rosalie burst into tears again.  Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.”

He runs his fingers through her hair and cups her jaw.  “Maybe I should ride with you.  Find something to distract them with that isn’t this trip.  Honestly, I’m surprised Branson isn’t handling this better.”

She nods.  “I feel like he wants to talk about his role, but he can’t with Rosalie in the carriage.”

“I’ve considered sending word to some our more interesting friends.  Maybe have them meet us on the way.  If nothing else, they’d make an excellent distraction.”

She looks around at the all too familiar area.  “Lothering isn’t far from here.  Do you think that might be part of it?  She hasn’t come this far west since the Blight.”

He nods.  “If she even remembers the trip.  But you may be right.  If I send word now, our friends should arrive to Redcliffe at the same time.”

She smirks.  “Missing Dorian are you?”

“If anyone misses Dorian, it’s you, love.”  He places his hands on her hips and pulls her towards him.  “Have you thought about what he said about…?”

She looks away from a moment and then back up at him.  “Going back to Tevinter?  I’d rather not.”

“Did he say when that might happen?”

She shakes her head.  “His letter was vague, but it seems that Mae needs him sooner rather than later.”

“Bull isn’t going to be too happy about that.”

“Probably not.”  She runs her finger down his scar.  “I don’t want to think about that now.  He promised to be there when we return, so let’s just focus on that.  Any word from Josie about the mood of our Fereldan friends?”

He chuckles.  “No.  She has let it slip that you are headed to resign before our child is born and that seems to have quieted them down some.  She’s beginning to worry that Orlais and Ferelden might start a war over the fate of the Inquisition.”

“Shit sure did fall apart fast while we’ve been dawdling in the country.”

He notices the deep purple bags under her eyes.  He runs his thumb across on of them.  “When is the last time you slept soundly?  I’m starting to worry.”

She smirks.  “When are you not worrying about me?”  She sighs.  “I’ve never been good at sleeping on the road, you know that.  I look forward to getting some rest at an inn though.”

He kisses her forehead.  “Then we should get a move on.  I’m going to let Branson ride for a bit.  Keep you and my sister company.”

“Sounds good.”  They lace their fingers together and walk back to the carriage.

Branson is leaning against it while Rosalie sleeps inside it.  He meets them before they reach it.  “Sorry about the silent treatment, Shea.  I can tell when she doesn’t want to talk, which isn’t often.  This is all a bit overwhelming for her.  She should be fine in a day or so.”

“That’s good.  How are you holding up?”

He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets.  “Fine.  Feels weird to be traveling in normal clothes instead of my uniform, but I suppose I shouldn’t be wearing it anymore.  I’m not sure any of this will fully sink in until I see Skyhold for the first time.  I’m used to these parts by now.”

The mention of her home makes her long to be there even more.  To see her friends, to sleep in her own bed, and even to get some work down at the war table.  She misses it all more than she ever realized.  “Speaking of Skyhold.  We should get moving.  With things the way they are with Ferelden right now, I don’t want to stay in one place longer than we need to.”

Branson folds his arms over his chest.  “You think they’d try something?”

“No.  But tension and tempers are high right now.  We can’t be too careful.”

Cullen nods.  “I would hope they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try something violent.  I’ve known the queen a long time.  She’s never acted without thinking out all the options first and she has taught the king that I’m sure.  Black… Rainer’s transgressions in Orlais should serve as an example of what the Empress would do if someone were to harm her allies, especially the lives of innocents.  I think she values your wellbeing over peace with Ferelden.  She wouldn’t say that, of course.”

Shea sighs.  “It almost goes without saying.  Celine owes us her life and throne.  She knows where her allies are and she knows that the Inquisition is not a good enemy to have.”

Branson chuckles.  “You’d think the Royal Family would see that too.”

Shea shakes her head and holds up her hands.  “Let’s get moving.  All this talk of war is giving me a headache.”

Cullen motions to his horse.  “Why don’t you ride for a while, Branson?  Let me keep them company for a while.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”  Branson goes to Cullen’s horse and quickly mounts it.  Cullen helps Shea back into the carriage and sits beside her.  The carriage lurches and bumps down the road as soon as they are seated.  Cullen wraps his arm around Shea’s shoulders and pulls her close to him.  She snuggles in beside him.  Pressing her face into the fur of his mantle.  Rosalie opens her eyes and watches them get comfortable and after a while Shea falls asleep against him.  Rosalie watches him brush the hair gently from her face, his gloved fingers tracing the edge of her jaw.

She smirks and chuckles softly.  Cullen pulls his eyes away from her face to look at his sister.  “You know.  You’d both be more comfortable if you didn’t insist on wearing armor.”

His scar twitches as his signature half grin pulls at his lip.  “One can never be too careful on the road.  And to be perfectly honest, I’ve worn armor for the majority of my life.  I’m more comfortable in it than out of it.”

“I suppose what you wear now is better than Templar armor.”

He nods.  “Absolutely.  Full plate, multiple layers of padding and cloth.  It’s hard enough to sit down much less ride in a carriage.  And don’t get me started on how hard it is to see out of that helmet.”

“Is that why you don’t wear one now?”

He chuckles softly.  “I have a helmet, but I don’t wear it often.”  Rosalie turns her attention out the window and watches the world pass by.  Cullen watches her for a few moments before addressing her.  “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?”  He watches her taking in the world outside.  The trees are slowly growing thicker the closer they get to the Hinterlands.

“I’ve been in the same position, if you’ll recall.  Except I was alone and much, much younger.  Mia will survive as she always has.  You shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to see more of the world before settling down.  Many people aren’t presented with opportunities like this.  And though you will be homesick and you might feel guilty leaving her behind, when a chance like this arises, you can’t blame yourself for wanting to take advantage of it.  Mia understands.  She might be sad now, but the memories, experiences, and the no doubt countless gifts Shea will help you buy, will stay with you forever.  You will bring all that back with you.  And it isn’t like you plan on leaving forever.  She knows that.”

Rosalie looks over at him and studies his face in the growing darkness.  She doesn’t know how to respond to the man speaking to her.  Sometimes he feels like the brother she said good bye to all those years ago, but looking at him, listening to him, she can tell he has experienced more than any one person should while still trying to maintain a positive outlook.  She rests her head on the side of the carriage and watches him study her.  Her eyes shift between her brother and the sleeping pregnant woman leaning against him.  “It feels strange to be here.”

“Strange how?”

“Well, I’m with you and the most famous woman in all Thedas for one.  A woman I now call sister.  And it’s all happening so fast.  I mean not too long ago we were wondering if you were still alive.  Wondering if you survived Kirkwall and then the conclave.  And now… I do feel guilty, Cullen.  Mia has done so much for all of us and now she’s alone.  We’ve just up and left her, as you did.  I have every intention of going back.  That much is true, but who can say what the future holds?  Something in this messed up world could prevent me from going home.”  She folds her arms over her chest and sighs.  “I’m sorry I’m not my normal cheery self.  My eternal optimism is taking the day off apparently.  This isn’t your fault.  Or Shea’s.  I made this choice long before you came back into the picture.  I’m just worried that this will open up old wounds for Mia.”  She looks out the window and Cullen waits for her to continue.  Having learned that she hasn’t changed too much from the child he knew, he knows that she doesn’t need to be prompted to continue.  Her mouth will carry on when her mind has had time to process what it wants to say next.  It dawns on him that his sister has been holding this in.  Waiting for moment when Shea wouldn’t hear.  He wonders why that is.  Rosalie looks back at him after watching the stars appear in the sky.  “I almost left home once before.  Years ago.  I thought I was in love and this man spoke of far away, exotic places.  I wanted to see those things so desperately I almost married myself off to a slaver.  It’s water under the bridge now and I’m sure he’s long dead or still imprisoned.  The point is that I threatened to run away in the dead of night in an argument with Mia.  I never told her what became of the man or what I had done to free myself from him, but the look in her eyes that night when I threatened to leave, as you did, and never come back… I saw that look again when we left the farm.”

Cullen shifts his grip around Shea.  Moving her gently, he lays her in the seat before crossing to the other side of the carriage to sit next to his sister.  “You aren’t me, Rosie.  You have a connection with our family that I will never have.  You know what Mia needs to feel at peace with this trip and I imagine that you are better at it.”  She looks at him with a confused expression and he chuckles.  “Write her letters.  As often as you can, with as many details as you can.  I know.  I know.  I should take my own advice, but I’ve never been good at writing letters.  Shea has helped with that, but my point stays the same.  As long as she knows you haven’t forgotten about her, she’ll be fine.”

Rosalie wraps her arms around him and he returns her hug.  He kisses the top of her head and ruffles her hair.  “You should try to get some sleep.  I would hate for you to miss anything on this trip due to lack of sleep.”

“I’ll try.  Though I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to sleep on the road.  Especially in a carriage.”  He gives her one final squeeze before returning to Shea’s side.  He lifts her head and slides into the seat.  He sets her head in his lap and smiles as she wraps her arms around his leg.  He brushes her hair behind her ear and hums softly to lull her into a deeper sleep.  Soon her eyes move behind her lids and he knows she’s in the fade.  He hopes the nightmares will leave her alone for the time being.  Soft snores reach his ears and he looks up to see that Rosalie has curled up in the seat and fallen asleep.  He returns his gaze to Shea’s sleeping face.  He knows he should probably rest himself, but watching the love of his life snooze away in his lap is too enchanting to look away from.

As he studies the lines on her face, he notices some fine lines have started to form on her smooth skin.  No doubt from the stress of her job and having the weight of the world constantly on her shoulders.  It wouldn’t surprise him if she even had a few gray hairs now.  Both of their lives have changed so drastically in the year and a half since they met.  And in a few short months, their lives will change drastically yet again.  The timing could have been better, but who could have predicted the unrest in Ferelden after she saved the world.  Maybe they should have waited until they had left this life.  Maybe he shouldn’t have lived in the moment and actually thought it through.  He shakes his head and sighs.  Always the worrier.  Constantly wondering what he could have done better yet knowing there is nothing he can do to change it.  Not that he wants to change anything about their time together.  She is perfect and more than he could have ever wished for.  He leans his head back to rest on the padded walls of the carriage.  He closes his eyes and his mind wanders to the future.  A place he would normally try to avoid.

One day, Shea Trevelyan will be his wife.  Something he never expected to have.  In a short while, he’ll be welcoming his first child into the world.  Another thing he never expected to have.  He doesn’t know how long, but at some point he’ll be completely free of his lyrium leash.  Something no one thought possible.  It has never been done, and he will be the first.  He also might be able to help his former brothers and sisters break the chantry’s hold on them if they wished to be free.  His future is brighter than it has ever been and for that he thanks the Maker and Andraste for these gifts in his life.

***

Rosalie and Branson are practically hanging out the windows of the carriage as it crests the mountain trail that leads her home.  The cool mountain air a welcome relief as the domineering fortress looms ahead of them.  She quickly wipes a tear from her eye when she sees it.  Skyhold.  The thick stone and flapping banners as welcoming to her now as it had been when she first laid eyes on it.  Home.  She watches Cullen spur his horse into a gallop as he races forward.  The excitement of seeing Skyhold is clear in his eagerness to be within its walls once more.  She is slightly jealous that she can’t do the same.  That he will be there before her, but her heart pounds happily in her chest knowing that it won’t be long now.

Rosalie and Branson chatter excitedly at the sight.  She imagines this is what everyone feels when they first see her mountain fortress.  As they approach, the familiar sounds of clanging metal fill the air.  His men are training in the valley.  She can just make out the lines as they descend down into it.  And she knows that’s where he’ll be.  Checking in with his troops before riding up the keep, across the bridge, and into the courtyard.  She hears the horns announce their approach and knows that the courtyard will be brimming with people when they reach it.

She watches the troops part as the carriage approaches and they salute her as they go.  She chuckles and shakes her head.  Cullen must have told them to do that.  The whole company has never done that when she’s come back from travelling.  He must want his siblings to be impressed.  And it works.  They look at her as they enter in the base of the keep.  “Wow.  That’s a lot of men.”

She smiles.  “That’s not all of them by a long shot.   The force is massive.  And your brother had a hand in training each and every one.”

Branson whistles as they circle up the dimly lit tower.  “This place seems to be built for you.”

“It feels that way sometimes.  We were lucky that our modern carriages and wagons fit in here.  Otherwise, moving troops and supplies would be hell.”

“Are we inside the mountain right now?”

Shea nods.  “The entrance is hidden in the rock face below and this ramp goes all the way to the keep at the top.  Then we cross the bridge and enter the courtyard.  Maker help anyone for tries to attack Skyhold directly.”

Branson nods.  “They’d have to lay siege to the valley below and try to prevent supplies from coming in.”

“Everything Skyhold needs can be found inside the walls.  Cullen and Josephine have made sure we have food stores enough to last a very long time.  I imagine the enemy would run out of food before we did.  We worried for a while what a dragon attack would do, but the stone is strong and old.  We’re not sure how much damage it would have caused, but the casualties would have been minimal.  If we lost anyone at all.”

Rosalie leans forward on the edge of her seat.  “You were so lucky to find this place!  How did you?”

Shea sighs.  It has been some time since she’s thought of her missing elven friend.  It still bothers her that she doesn’t know why he left.  Much less where he went.  “Solas knew of this place.  It took a while to find it since we were on foot and had a lot of injured people, but it was here.  Hidden in the mountains.  Long forgotten to history.  It’s ancient and we don’t know much about its history, but I don’t imagine anyone forgetting about this place for ages to come.  Now that it has been the center of the Inquisition all this time.  But history has a way of being twisted and forgotten over time.  If we’ve learned anything from our explorations, things are not always remembered as they really happened.  And locations are lost over time.”  She shrugs.  “Not that that will happen in our life time.  Skyhold is a beacon.  People continuously come here from all over Thedas.  Less so now that Corypheus is dead, it may as well be its own city now.”

They nod and the gates raises to let them out onto the bridge.  Rosalie and Branson are stunned into silence at the sheer size of the gates.  “How could anyone forget a place this big?!”

Shea laughs.  She shifts in her seat.  She is tired of sitting and the anticipation of seeing her friends again is making her stomach do excited flips.  Either that or she is hungry.  Both are likely.  The carriage begins to slow and she pulls herself off the seat.  She pushes the door open before it can come to a full spot and hops out.  Before she can even register the faces in front of her, arms circle her neck and she gets pulled into a tight hug.  The familiar musk of her favorite mage fills her nose and she wraps her arms around him.  “Missed me have you?”

His smooth, baritone laugh fills her ears.  “You have no idea.”  He pulls her away with his hands on her shoulders.  “Let me look at you.”  His eyes take her in.  “My have you grown.”  He places his hand on her swelling belly and chuckles.

“You think that’s bad, you should see my ankles.”

They chuckle and he pulls her back into a hug.  “If I can’t handle a little over a month apart, how the hell am I going to survive…?”

She smacks his side.  “Don’t think of that now.  Look on the bright side.  You’ve got more Rutherfords to meet.”

He pulls away and looks over her shoulder.  Cullen is standing at the door of the carriage helping his siblings out.  Dorian gasps.  “There’s two of them?!”

She chuckles.  “Down boy.  He’s married.”

Dorian steps around her.  “Well, it would be rude not to introduce myself.”  She shakes her head and turns to greet the rest of her friends.  Everyone except Blackwall, Vivienne, and Varric who are all off doing their own thing.  All of the greetings are pretty standard, but when she greets Cassandra she asks to speak to Shea in private once things have calmed down.  Shea agrees knowing it probably has something to do with her brother.

After greeting her friends, she sees Josephine standing on the landing of the stairs.  She waves for her to come up, meaning she has important matters to discuss without all the ears around.  She finds Cullen with his siblings in the center of the courtyard.  Shea knows they won’t be here long.  One night, maybe two, before heading to Jadar then Val Royeaux.  She also knows that Cullen won’t have much time with his siblings before then.  She touches his arm and he turns towards her.  “Josie needs me.  Give them a tour and get them settled.  I’ll send someone for you if I need you.”

He nods and kisses her forehead.  “Thank you, love.  I shouldn’t be long.”

She smiles and pats his arm.  “Nonsense.  Take your time.”  She kisses him briefly before headed up the stairs.  The throne room looks as though nothing has changed.  People greet her as she passes through the throngs who mill around.  It feels the way it always does.  Buzzing and crowded.  She didn’t know she’d miss the atmosphere as much as she did.  Her mood couldn’t be better, but if the look on Josephine’s face is any indication, that won’t last too long.

She makes her way to the war room, where she is sure the Ambassador is waiting.  Sure enough, there she is, board in hand with piles of papers stacked all around the edge of the table.  Josephine sets her board down and meets her at the door.

“It’s good to see you, Inquisitor.  We have a lot to catch up on.  Will the Commander be joining us?”

“If we need him.  He’s getting our guests settled in.”

“I have someone waiting in the throne room for them.  To show them to their rooms.”

“I’m giving Cullen as much time with them as I can.  If we need his input, then I’ll send for him.  Until then, we should get started?”

“How’s your health?”

Shea smiles.  “We’re fine.  A little tired, but otherwise fine.”

“Praise Andraste for that.  Shall we?”

Shea nods and they dive into work.

***

It makes him feel uncomfortable not being in the war room.  It is the first time that he can recall ever missing a meeting.  He is certain there are things that need his attention after being gone so long.  He almost dreads the massive pile of reports that would be sitting on his desk, waiting for him to review and reply.  Yet it is nice to be escorting his siblings around Skyhold.  He can show off the efforts he has been putting in and the pride he feels for having a direct hand in its reconstruction.  The awe on their faces is apparent and he does most of the talking as he leads them around.  He saves their quarters for last.

As people move aside to let him pass, a familiar voice calls out to him.  “Commander!  Could I have a word?”

He stops in front of her throne and turns to see Rylen.  A smile breaks across his face followed quickly by the furrowing of his brow.  What the hell is he doing away from the Western Approach?  He steps away from his siblings as they take in the throne room.  He approaches Rylen and the men shake hands.  “Commander.  Welcome back to Skyhold.”

“Is there a problem in the Approach?”

Rylen laughs.  “No, ser.  I’m here on furlough.  I needed a break from darkspawn and sand.”

Cullen sighs as his anxiety fades.  “What did you need then?”

“Oh.  Well… I was hoping for… a change of scenery.  If you get my meaning.”

Cullen chuckles.  “That tired of the desert already?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Any ideas on who your replacement should be?”

Rylen eyes the ground.  “Not exactly.  I’ve asked around but no one wants to go out there.”

“I will look into it and see what I can do.”  He looks around the throne room.  “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Lady Ambassador’s assistant is, by chance?  I was told to meet them in here.”

“Yeah.   She’s over there by her office.”  He nods towards Branson and Rosalie.  “Those relatives of yours?”

Cullen chuckles.  “How’d you guess?”

“I’ll leave you to it then.  Please let me know if you approve my request for reassignment as soon as you can.  Before my furlough is up would be preferable.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”  Rylen salutes and both men turn from each other.

Cullen rejoins his siblings.  “Last stop on the tour before I have to attend to some work.”

Branson smiles brightly, “Lead the way.”

Cullen uses his key to open the door to the room.  He leads them up the stairs and into the large room.  All the windows have been opened to air out the room that haven’t been used in such a long time.  Her desk is littered with stacks of paper.  Dust particles dance in the sunlight as a gentle breeze flows through the room.  Rosalie and Branson release a collective gasp at the splendor that is their room.

Branson heads for the armor stands while Rosalie rushes to inspect the fabric hanging on the bed.  Cullen notes wardrobes have been moved, but he has no idea where.  He knows Shea has been in communication with Josie while she was away, but he has no idea that this is what they were talking about.  It barely feels like the room he had become so accustomed to.  Yet if this is what she wants, then who is he to argue.  This had been her room first.

Branson whistles and Cullen looks over at his brother.  Branson’s hand is hovering above Shea’s armor, which looks as new as it had the day he first saw her in it.  Red leather and brushed silver metal.  “This is the famous armor then?  What she wore to defeat Corypheus?”

It is the first time that it ever occurs to Cullen that her armor will become legendary.  Just as that of Ferelden kings and legendary warriors of old.  His fiancé has been added to that list.  Like Danielle.  Like Hawke.  People will one day seek out her armor, her axe, anything that belonged to her, in attempt to further their own power.

“Yes.  That is her armor.  Though I don’t imagine her wearing it anytime soon.  It interferes with her magic abilities.”

Branson nods and turns to face Cullen.  “It’s a fine set.  I assume yours goes next to it?”

“That’s correct.  Though mine doesn’t hold the importance hers does.”

Rosalie chuckles.  “Don’t sell yourself short, brother.  I hear hearts all over Orlais were broken when your engagement was announced.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh.  Of course she would have already heard about that.  Nothing stays secret in Skyhold for long.  “Yes.  I am sure they were utterly crushed.  Now.  I should probably have Josephine’s people show you to where you will be staying.  I need to figure out where she has moved the rest of my belongings.”

Branson claps him on the back.  “And I’m sure the disorder that is that desk over there has nothing to do with it.”

“It’s her desk.  Not mine.”  He smirks as he motions for them to go ahead of him.  “But yes.  She knows I hate it and I think she leaves it like that on purpose.”

His siblings laugh as they head down the stairs.  Rosalie smiles over her shoulder.  “I bet you’re right.”  The trio go back into the throne room to meet with Josephine’s representative.

***

Shea runs her fingers through her hair as she studies the war table.  Her head pounds at the sight of all the markers that represent rifts and gathering Ferelden forces near almost every one of their footholds there.  Reports say that none of them have made any moves to push them out but that they appear to be observing.  No one knows what they are watching for exactly, but their numbers are not exactly small.  She looks over at Josephine, whose poised demeanor has diminished some since the start of their meeting, as she leans against the windows starting up at the scarred sky.  “Josie.  Should I even stay the night?  Should I rush to the Grand Cathedral as fast as I can?  What can we do?”

“I cannot say.  I do worry that the longer this takes, the more restless they will become.  Leliana is trying to hold them off as well, but sooner or later this will need to be formally addressed.”

“Let’s hope for later rather than sooner.  I’m going to be out of commission soon enough.”

“Maker knows they won’t want to wait for you to recover either.”

Shea shakes her head.  “You think you know someone and then they pull something like this.  We just saved everyone from a would-be god hell bent on world destruction.  How quickly people forget.  And if anyone can understand what that’s like it’s the King and Queen of Ferelden.  They’ve been in the same position.”  Shea sighs and turns her back on the war table.  She leans on it and runs her fingers through her hair.  “Have the arrangements for the trip been made?”

“Yes.  Everything is in order.  Are you planning on staying for any length of time in Val Royeaux?”

“I wouldn’t be a very good host if I didn’t show his siblings around the city a bit.”

A bright smile breaks across Josephine’s face.  “You have been paying attention to my lessons.”

Shea shares in her amusement.  “You can’t take all the credit, Lady Ambassador.  I am a noblewoman after all.  Though if you could give my dear fiancé some lessons while I’m gone, that might be helpful.  He is a noble now too, if you’ll recall.”

“I will give him a few days to catch up on his work before I torture him.”

They share a laugh as Shea pushes off the table.  “Speaking of work.  I’m sure my desk is a mess.”

“If he hasn’t cleaned it already.”

“Is that catalogue still hidden under that mess?”

Josephine nods.  “It’s the only reason I didn’t have it straightened for you.  I can set up an appointment with the merchant in Val Royeaux so you can see them in person if you’d like.”

“Do that.”

Shea heads towards the door and Josephine follows behind her.  “Do try to relax some tonight.  You will have plenty of time to work when you return.”

“You can say that again.”  Josephine sits at her desk and Shea stops at the door before turning back to her.  “Has he asked you to make arrangements yet?”

“You are referring to Lord Pavus, I assume?”  Shea nods.  “Not yet.  But I feel it will be soon.”

“Keep me posted.  I fear he won’t tell me until the last minute and I would appreciate some warning.  As would Bull.”

“As you wish.  Enjoy the night’s rest.  And I’m here if you need me for anything.”

“Thanks, Josie.”  Shea reaches for the handle when the door opens.  Cullen walks through.  Shea smirks.  “So, sorry love.  The meeting is over.  And you can catch up on your paperwork tomorrow.”

“I should really… Is that an order, Inquisitor?”

She grabs his hand and leads him into the throne room.  “If it helps.”

“Lead on then.”  He smiles at her.  He can see the worry behind her eyes, but she is clearly in need of some fun and distraction.  A service he is all too willing to provide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome! And for status updates on this work and other things I'm up to, be sure to follow me on Tumblr. My username is bevans87.
> 
> UPDATED July 20, 2018


	24. Love is in the Air

Shea leads Cullen to their room.  She practically drags him there she is walking so fast.  He can’t help but chuckle at her eagerness and the disgruntled grunts as she pushes through the crowd.  Though he is certain the meeting didn’t hold good news, there is a light and energy about her that lets him know that he shouldn’t ask.  Not yet anyway.  He follows along behind her as she climbs the stairs.

She drops his hand and rushes to her desk to straighten the papers on top of it.  He smirks knowing full well that she is just doing that for him.  “I like the new curtains.”

She smiles and looks up at him.  “Good.  I was worried you’d be mad to I changed them without telling you.”

He removes one of his gloves and runs his fingers down the rich material on the posts.  “Any particular reason you chose these?”

“Well… when the baby comes, sleep is going to be hard to come by.  We may have to sleep during the day and these curtains will block out light.  I figured it was easier to put curtains on the bed than trying to get them onto all these windows.”  She moves around the desk and he holds out his hand to her.  She laces her fingers in his and he kisses the back of her hand.

“And where might our wardrobes be located?”

“Oh!  Right.  I had Josie rearrange some things.  The bath has been moved into the same room as the chamber pot.  It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do.  The wardrobes are where the bath used to be.”  He nods and begins to remove his armor.  She releases his hand and sits down on the bed to watch him.  “Aren’t you going to ask what the empty space is for?”

“I have a pretty good idea.  But if it would please you.  What is the empty space for?”

She smiles brightly.  “I still have to decide which one I want to get.  That’s something I’ll be taking care of in Val Royeaux.  But it’s where the cradle will go.”

He looks back at her over his shoulder sending a warm smile in her direction.  “I believe the book called this nesting.”

She laughs and places her hand on her stomach.  “That makes me sound like a bird.”

“There are other creatures who make nests, my love.”

She smirks.  “Like dragons?”

“Precisely.”  He turns to face her.  His padded leather pants are unlaced and sitting loosely on his hips.  He saunters over to her and smirks as she bites her bottom lip.  “Now.  Was there a particular reason you rushed me up here?”

“If there was, I seem to have forgotten it.”

He chuckles and kneels in front of her.  “I have a few ideas of what we can do with this solitude.”

She raises an eyebrow and looks down at him as he unlaces her boots.  “Is that so?”

“Our… vacation didn’t allow much alone time.  I plan to remedy that.”

She sighs and flops backwards on the bed.  “As much as I would enjoy that, we should really be spending time with your siblings.  Who knows what our friends are doing with them right now.”

He chuckles and tosses her boots and socks to the side.  He presses his thumbs into the arches of her feet and she moans loudly.  “I’m sure Josie is tending to them.  Rosalie will want to freshen up before formally meeting our friends.  Now…”  He runs his hands up her legs.  “Let’s get you out of this armor and into the bath.”

“Lord Rutherford, you would leave your sweet innocent sister to fend for herself in a castle full of people who would not hesitate to corrupt her.  Perish the thought.”

He begins unlacing the expanded leather pants.  He makes a mental note to remind her to write to the tailor in Montsimmard to thank him for creating armor she could wear throughout her pregnancy.  “Oh I’m sure our friends are going to be paragons of virtue around her.”

She chuckles as he tugs her pants down her hips.  “You don’t know our friends very well.”

He tosses her pants with her boots and moves up her to continue removing her armor.  “As long as she avoids the tavern, they will be on their best behavior.  Or they will suffer the wrath of Josephine.”

She grabs his shoulders and pulls herself up to a seated position.  “And what of your wrath?”

He slides his hands under her top and along her shoulders, pushing the leather down her arms.  “I am not Mia, my love.  My siblings are adults and though I care for them, they can fend for themselves.  And my sister is not as innocent as you would believe.”

She brushes her nose against his neck as he tosses her armor aside.  “She hasn’t met Dorian and The Iron Bull yet.”

He swiftly removes her sleeveless undershirt and tosses it. “I’d be more worried about Varric, were he here.”

She runs her hands up her chest and twirls his chest hair between her fingers.  “Sweetheart.  You forget I have travelled with these people far more than you have.  If anyone is going to corrupt your sister it is Dorian.”  She leans forward and nips at one of his nipples.  He hisses and nearly rips the fabric of her breast band as he yanks it off.  “Though.  I suppose you are well aware of his… finer qualities.”

He pushes her down onto the bed and pressed his lips hard against her throat.  She moans and shifts under him.  Her firm belly trapped between them.  He feels her shift under comfortably beneath him and moves to lay bedside her.  She turns her head to look at him.  He tenderly brushed the hair from her face.  “By your shifting, I’m assuming sex is out of the picture?”

She sighs and reluctantly nods.  “Our child is restless today.  It’s kind of a turn off.”  He places his hand on her bare stomach and gentle rubs the stretched skin.

“Maybe you’ll both feel better after a nice relaxing bath.”  He sits up and presses his lips to her bump.  He smiles and kisses her firmly on the lips before getting off the bed.  “You stay there and I’ll get it ready for you.”

“And afterwards, we’ll have a meal with your siblings.  Primarily because I’m starved.”

He pushes his pants and smalls down and kicks them across the room.  She smirks as he turns his back to her.  She pushes herself up and watches him walk around the bed towards the new location of the bath.  His perfect ass holding her gaze the whole way.  He pauses at the door and looks over at her.  “Your wish is my command.”  He smirks and disappears behind the door.

Shea sighs and heaves herself off the bed.  She listens to the sounds of water coming for the room as she bends to pick up the discarded clothing.  She hears a chuckle behind her and she looks over his shoulder.  “I would have done that.”

She shrugs and finishes hanging his armor on its form.  She turns and he holds out his hand to her.  She smiles brightly and moves to take it.  “I believe the water is the perfect level of scolding for you.”

“Since you are joining me, which isn’t a question by the way, I’ll cool it off for your sensitive Fereldan hide.”

He scoffs in mock offense and ushers her forward.  “Just because I enjoy the cold doesn’t mean I’m sensitive.”

“My apologies, my lord.  It was not my intention to offend you.”

He gently smacks her ass before removing her smalls.  “Apology accepted.”

She steps in the bath and he steps in behind her.  She bends and swirls her fingers in the water.  She summons her magic and cools the water some.  “Better?”

He settles into the tub and rests his back against the wall.  “Yes.  Thank you.”  He helps lower her into the water and she leans against him.  He wraps his arms around her and kisses the side of her neck.  “I’ve missed this.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been long enough.  The last time we were worried about intruders.”

“We could still have intruders, but here they would be punished.”

“And they know not to enter if the door is locked.”

She looks over her shoulder.  “I didn’t lock it.  Did you?”

He quickly stands and darts soaking wet through the room and down the stairs.  He locks the door and disconnects the bell on the way back.  He darts back to the bath and slides in behind her.  “It’s locked now.”

She chuckles and settles back into his embrace.  “As much as I’m enjoying this, we really shouldn’t keep our guests waiting longer than necessary.”

He sighs.  “I know.  I just enjoy these moments so much I hate for them to end.”

She begins washing his arms and shakes her head.  “Have you even been to your office yet?”

“I’m actively avoiding it for now.  The work will still be there tomorrow.”

She turns slightly to look at him.  “That is very unlike you.”

He trails his wet fingers along her jaw.  “I know our time is limited.  You will no doubt be leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to miss out on having you all to myself for as long as I can.”

She smiles and leans over to kiss him.  “The sooner I go, the sooner I can return.  And then I won’t be going anywhere for a few months at least.”

“And then it’s back to closing rifts.”

She nods.  “Yes, but let’s not think of that right now.”

“Agreed.”

She runs her wet hands through his hair.  “For now.  Let’s wash the road from us and enjoy each other’s company.”

“I can do that.”  He turns her in his lap to face him and pulls her in close.  Her legs slide on either of him.  She wraps her arm around his neck.  He runs his hands up and down her back.  “Happy to be home?”

“Absolutely.  I think I got a little teary eyed when I saw Skyhold from the pass.”

“I just wish you had been able to ride into the valley at full speed with me.”

“Me too.  But watching their eyes bug out of their heads was pretty satisfying.”

“I bet.  Though I don’t think it would take much to impress them.”

“Skyhold is impressive no matter who it is.”

“True.”  They fall into a comfortable silence as they wash each other.  Cullen struggles to be respectful and professional in his cleaning of her.  She has already expressed that she isn’t in the mood for sex and he doesn’t want to wake the bear.  She is not so respectful.  She might not be in the mood, but she can tell without any doubt that he very much is.  Without much warning on her part, she wraps her hand around his erection and his hands freeze on her.  She slowly begins stroking his length and smirks when his eyes fall closed.  “Shea.  You don’t have to…”  His words are cut off by her lips pressing his closed.  He instinctively returns her kiss as her hand pumps away.  She pushes him back against the tub wall and trails her lips down his neck.  Her wet hair clings to his skin.  His head falls back over the edge of the bath as soft moans start to roll out of him.  It doesn’t take long for her to bring him close to his end.  She has done this to him enough by now to know exactly what he likes.

He cups her jaw and pulls her to him.  His lips find hers and they move together.  Lips and tongue smacking loudly as he rapidly approaches his climax.  His body shakes against hers.  His muscles constrict and his head falls away from hers.  The moan catches in his throat and she presses her lips against his adam’s apple.  He threads his fingers into her wet and tangled hair and clings to her.  His toes curl and he expels his load into the water.  His sounds of pleasure find their escape.  He cries out loudly and she smirks.  She runs her hand up his chest and hooks it behind his head.  She pulls him forward and kisses his panting lips.  She feels is lopsided grin and leans back to study his face.  He runs his fingers down the scar on her face.  “Maker.  I love you.”

She kisses him.  “I love you, too.”

She moves to stand and he holds her in place.  “Do we have to go?  I just want to stay here.  Enjoy this alone time.  Hold you in my arms until you have to leave.”

She places her hand on his jaw and runs her thumb down his scar.  “Yes.  We do.  What would Josephine and Mia say if we left your siblings, our guests, unattended?”

He groans and rests his forehead on hers.  “Fine.  You win.”  He helps her stand before standing himself.  She dispels the water as they step from the bath.  She uses her magic to dry them both and leaves the bathroom without a towel.  He shakes his head and follows behind her.  She opens her wardrobe and is relieved to see that her new clothes have been placed inside.  She grabs fresh underwear and her favorite plum dress.  He watches her dress before digging around in his own wardrobe.  He runs his hands through his hair, smoothing out the curls before grabbing his casual attire.

“No armor tonight?”

“It is our night off, is it not?”

He pulls on a pair of leather pants and grabs one of his cream colored shirts.  She smiles and grabs the bottle of his hair stuff off the counter.  She rubs a little between her hands and waits for him to finish pulling the shirt over his head.  He turns to face her and she attacks.  She runs the product through his hair and he starts to protest.  “What?  Don’t trust me to do it right?”  He narrows his eyes, but lets her continue as he laces his front of his shirt.  He tries not to squirm under her touch as she does his hair.  She steps back from him and dips her hands into the bowl of water on the nearby table.  She dries them and motions towards the mirror on the wall.  “I know you are dying to look.”  He clamps down on his desire to rush to the mirror.  Instead he takes a breath and takes the few steps slowly.  He smirks when he catches his reflection.  “Well?”

“I guess you’ve watched me get ready enough to know how to do it.”

She stands behind him and presses up on her toes to peer at him in the mirror over his shoulder.  “I bet I could shave you too.”

He rubs his chin and the hair makes a rasp sound against his fingers.  “It’s not time yet.  Did I ever get your opinion on a beard?”’

“I believe I made you shave the last one you had.”

“Did you?  I thought maybe I had chosen to do that.”

“We’ve discussed that I don’t want to control how you look.  And vice versa.  If you want a beard, grow one.”

He turns to face her and runs his fingers through her auburn mane.  “I’m glad you’re letting it grow out again.”

She chuckles.  “You did ask me to.  Though last time, you expressed that you missed how the shorter hair curled around your finger.”

“Did I?  Well, as we’ve established, you don’t have to.”

She presses herself against him and wraps her arms around his waist.  “I want to.  It makes you happy.  I’ll probably have to start braiding it again once I’m in fighting shape, but I’ll just have to live with that.”

“Maybe I could practice braiding it for you.  It’s something I’m going to need to learn if I’m going to help with our daughter’s hair.”

“Assuming she’s a girl.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.  Now, aren’t we supposed to be entertaining your future in-laws right now?”

She laughs and gently shoves him out of the way.  She quickly makes two braids at her temples and pulls them to the back and ties them together.  He grabs a pair of boots from his wardrobe and hers from off the floor.  She plops down on the bed and he puts them on her feet without being prompted.  He laces his own boots and takes her hand.  He pulls her off the bed and leads her back down the stairs.

Cassandra is waiting by her throne when they enter.  Shea instantly remembers her request to speak when she first arrived.  “Cullen, go get Rosalie and Branson.  I’ll meet you in the tavern for dinner.”  He nods and kisses her on the cheek.  He nods to Cassandra and walks through the throne room.  He looks back over his shoulder and watches them disappear into their quarters and wonders what is bothering Cassandra so much that she needed to speak with Shea alone.  Trusting that his love will tell him if she needs to, he turns towards to garden where the guest rooms are located.

Shea motions for Cassandra to sit on the couch in front of the fire once they reach the top of the stairs.  Cassandra nods and sits.  Shea sits on a nearby plush chair so that she can see her.  She doesn’t say anything.  She’s had enough conversations with the Seeker to know when she is anxious about whatever it is she needs to say.  Prompting her prematurely could make her chicken out.  She folds her hands in her lap and waits.  Cassandra quickly stands and paces behind the couch.  Shea follows her with her eyes.  Cassandra suddenly stops and slams her hands on the back of the couch.  “Why couldn’t you have waited?!”  It has been a long time since Cassandra’s fury has been aimed at her.  Shea’s eyes nearly pop out of her head in surprise.  Cassandra quickly holds up her hands.  “I’m sorry, Inquisitor.  I forget my place.”

Shea shakes her head and blinks a few times.  “No need to apologize.  It’s just been a while since you’ve yelled at me like that.  And waited for what exactly?”

“I think you know.”

Shea looks down at herself and sighs.  “You are probably right.  We got caught up in the moment and now we’re having to deal with this whole Ferelden thing when I can’t even…”

Cassandra sits down and leans forward.  “No.  Not that.  I meant going on the trip to close all the rifts and visiting your brother and the rulers of Ferelden.”

“Oh.  Well, they were being very pushy.”

“No.  I didn’t mean… my main concern is the rifts and visiting your brother.  I know Ferelden wouldn’t have waited much longer than they already had.”

Shea sits back in the chair and crosses her arms over her chest.  “Something is bothering you.  That much is clear.  I suspect it’s about my brother.”

“Closing the rifts was clearly a waste of time since a lot of them have opened up again.  But… yes.  This is about your brother.  And Leliana oddly enough.  Your pending resignation has put some other things in motion that I was not expecting.  Though I didn’t accept her offer to be her Right Hand, I have signed on to be an advisor.  At least until I’m not being pulled in several different directions.  I’m needed here, Val Royeaux, and Ostwick.  It’s quite frustrating.”

“I’m sorry.  What is it I should have waited for?  I’m not quite following your train of thought.”

Cassandra sighs and rubs her hands together.  “I was just wishing you had stayed in Skyhold a little longer after Corypheus.  If things were still up in the air in Ostwick, if the rifts hadn’t been closed only to reopen again, if you weren’t being forced to resign, I wouldn’t be in the predicament I’m currently in.”

“Which is?”

“I explained the Leliana thing.  And you know my duties here.  The biggest problem is Ostwick.  Our people are still there.  This assassin business hasn’t really been resolved, though things have gotten a lot quieter since your visit.  Which makes your brother more… it makes him more relaxed than he should be.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“He goes out without guards.  He is making plans for the future.  Plans that seem to involve me.”

Shea chuckles.  “You mean marriage plans.”

Cassandra pushes off the couch and paces.  “Yes.  Marriage plans.  He hasn’t outwardly said as much, but he continuously asks when I’m coming back so that we may have a romantic evening alone.”

“And you think that means he is going to ask you to marry him?”

“I don’t know.  What I do know is that I have… reservations about saying yes to him.”

Shea nods.  She and Cassandra have talked at length about being nobility and how happy the Seeker is that she is not being held to her status in Nevarra despite it being part of her formal introductions.   Saying yes to Brandon would not just make her a noble all over again, but she would essentially be Queen of Ostwick.  “Do you love him?”

“Can I really think of that when…”

Shea stands and grabs Cassandra by the shoulders.  “Of course, you can.  You deserve happiness.  If you don’t love him, then don’t marry him.  Only true nobles marry for money and station.  You don’t need that on your plate and I know for a fact you don’t want to marry someone unless you love them.  I’m a prime example.  I’m a noble from the Free Marches who is planning to marry a commoner from Ferelden.”

“Well, he’s noble now.”

Shea scoffs.  “I wanted to be with him long before that happened.  So, what you really need to ask yourself is do you see yourself spending the rest of your life with him?  Not out of obligation, but of love.  So, I ask again.  Do you love him?”

Cassandra looks over at the low burning fire.  “I… don’t know.  He is charming and handsome.  He is one of the only people who can convince me to dance.  But I’m not sure I can live in his world.”

“Ignore that part.  Pretend neither of you have positons or responsibilities.  You are just a woman and he is just a man.  Is he the man for you?  You don’t have to answer that right now.  You have time to think about it.  But if you can picture a happy life without him, then he may not be the right choice for you.”

Cassandra chuckles softly and looks into Shea’s ocean blue eyes.  “How old are you again?”

Shea rolls her eyes and releases her grip on Cassandra.  “I can easily answer those questions.  Hell, I wouldn’t be alive without him much less happy.  Think on it.  Really think about how you feel.  If Brandon is not a missing piece you didn’t know you were missing, move on.  It’ll be better for the both of you in the long run.”

“Cullen is a lucky man.”

“And he knows it.  I’m lucky as well.”  They both laugh and Cassandra pulls Shea into a tight hug.  “I’m always free to talk if you need to.  Though I am leaving for Val Royeaux tomorrow.”

“I was thinking of coming with you, if that’s alright.”

“Sure.  I’m sure you and Leliana have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes.  And I’ve been tasked to bring her new Left Hand up to speed.”

Shea nods.  “I figured she’d tell you.”

“Do you think it’s a wise choice?  Cullen’s brother?”

“Branson is very smart.  Harding and Leliana trained him.  Plus he’s a Rutherford.  The whole family is strong willed.  My only concern is how the family would react if something happens to him.”

Cassandra pats her on the arm.  “Don’t worry.  The Left Hand doesn’t stray far from the Divine, unless explicitly told by her to do so.  When Leliana was the Left Hand, I can probably count on one hand, maybe two, the number of times she left Justinia’s side.”

“I should let Cullen know that.  It should make him feel better about the whole thing.”

Cassandra and Shea move in sync towards the stairs.  “I wasn’t aware he knew.”

“Leliana instructed Branson to tell the both of us.”

“That’s probably for the best.  No one wants to wake the lion.”  Shea bursts out laughing and Cassandra joins in.  They laugh all the way down the stairs into the throne room.  “Please don’t tell him I said that.  He hates it.”

“Trust me.  I know.  It’s the real reason he won’t wear his helmet.  Orlesians ruined it for him.”

Cassandra laughs again.  “He was so proud of it when he bought it.  Then when we arrived at Haven, it was the start of Orlais’s infatuation with him.  And thus the nickname was born.”

“Wow.  Since the beginning then?  He didn’t tell me that.  Granted he didn’t say that was the reason he stopped wearing it either, but I put two and two together.”

Skyhold is always buzzing when Shea is around.  From what she has heard from Cullen or from her companions on the road, everything is a lot more relaxed when she isn’t around.  People aren’t rushing around anywhere or trying to get a look at her.  It’s just like any other town.  Work to be done and fun to be had when the sun goes down.  She imagines what that must be like as she and Cassandra walk through the throne room and down the stairs towards the tavern. 

Soldiers and scouts stop to salute.  People stand closer together and murmur.  Eyes follow as she walks.  Studying her or just trying to catch a glimpse.  It used to bother her.  All this attention, but it feels like a lifetime ago that she woke up in Haven and became the Herald of Andraste.  Now, this is her normal.  She almost forgets about the attention unless someone points it out, as Cassandra is now.  The Seeker wonders if this will ever fade for her.  If all these eyes will one day stop following her.  Shea has long since given that up and in this moment she doesn’t mind it.  There have been times when all those eyes made her anxious or nervous, but it is just another part of her life now.

At this point in her life, a lack of people would put her on edge.  It tells her something is wrong.  She may have adjusted to being the center of attention, but she still secretly hates it.  Her every move is analyzed both in her professional and personal life.  Thanks to Bull, she continues to hide that well.  But there is one person whom she can never hide from, primarily because he feels the same way.

Cassandra opens the tavern door and she instantly spots him sitting next to his brother.  The sight breaks through the path her mind was taking and a small smile crosses her face.  This sight could take place anywhere.  A normal old tavern filled with friends, family, laughter, and drink.  She loves the way his eyes and nose crinkle when he laughs full out.  How is he rubs his chest with his thumb from time to time when he has laughed for an extended period of time.  It’s not an expression she gets to see very often, but whatever stories are being shared have pulled it out of him.  The mug of ale in his hand can’t hurt either. 

She leans on the door frame and motions for Cassandra to go ahead without her.  Taking a quick survey of the room, she sees why.  She smiles, nods, and pats Shea on the arm before going to order a drink for herself.  Shea stands there by the door completely ignored, practically invisible to everyone in the tavern.  No one looks at her because they are too absorbed into their own conversations. 

The Chargers and Bull are in the back corner as they always are.  Singing some drunken song she’s never heard before.  She spots a mass of blonde curls sitting next to Krem.  She laughs and nearly spills the drink in her hands when they finish their song.  A helpful arm from Krem keeps her future sister-in-law vertical.  Shea shakes her head.  From the look on Rosalie’s face, she can tell that she won’t be returning home empty handed.  She wonders what he will think of his sister falling for the Tevinter.  She knows he has no problems with Krem, but she isn’t entirely sure he’ll like it.  But she will support them both if this is truly what they want.  Krem is her dear friend and both of them deserve to be happy not matter what form it comes in.

A high pitched laugh draws her attention away from The Chargers and their new friend.  Sera hangs off the railing on the second level with Dagna hanging onto her legs for dear life.  Whatever prank that was about to happen has been foiled by the elf’s drunken amusement.  The dwarf helps her back onto solid ground and they sink down against the railing in a fit of laughter.  Another blooming relationship seems to be budding all thanks to the Inquisition.

Her gaze drifts back to him and the group around him.  Branson, Dorian, and now Cassandra are gathered around a table in the center of the tavern.  Dorian is standing at the head of the table, gesturing with his hands, and thus his glass, telling some highly animated story.  The other three are all laughing and she ever sees Branson wipe a tear from his eye.  The mage bows with a flourish and the others applaud.  Cassandra sits a little straighter and begins telling a story of her own.  The men give her the same attention.  Shea catches Dorian eyeing both of the Rutherford boys when they aren’t looking at him and shake his head.  She chuckles to herself as she watches.

A presence next to her pulls her attention.  Cole is standing next to her now.  Watching the others as she is.  He nods to her and she nods back.  They turn their attention back to the scenes in front of them.  She had forgotten how at ease she has become around him.  He is a calming presence even in her most foul of moods.  She glances over at him.  She knows he is listening to her.  He can’t help it.  She notices that it doesn’t bother her as it once had.  Cole is a trusted friend and stumbling his way through his new human world.  A world that he is quickly becoming used to.  She finds herself feeling proud of his progress.  At that, he turns his head towards her.  She catches a flash of a grin from under his large hat before he goes further into the tavern.  He sits himself on top of barrel next to Maryden, tucks one foot up, and swings the other back and forth as he watches her play her lute.

And maybe it’s because Summerday is the next day, the end of spring, or because there is relative peace in Thedas, her friends seem the happiest they have ever been.  She almost hates to leave in the morning, but such is her life.  Always working, always leaving, always traveling.  It dawns on her in this moment that she is almost an outsider.  Not just because she is just standing there watching, but because this is what she imagines life is like when she isn’t around.  The carefree environment that establishes itself when the boss is away.  The thought pulls on her heartstrings a little.  She can’t name the emotions exactly.  The idea of being the reason the people of Skyhold can’t relax sits uneasily in her chest.

Cole stands quietly and taps Cullen on the shoulder.  “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“That’s alright, Cole.  Is everything alright?”

“Why?  Does something have to be wrong for me to speak to you?”

“That’s not… I didn’t mean… I suppose it did sound like I was saying that.  I apologize.”

Cole nods.  “I still make you uneasy.”

“At times.  But I’m becoming… accustomed to you.  If that makes sense.”

“It does.  She’s here, by the way.”

“Shea?”  Cullen looks around and spots her leaning against the doorframe.  “How long has she been there?”

“Since Cassandra got here.  She was enjoying watching everyone.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”  Cole takes up his spot near Maryden and Cullen excuses himself from the table.  He can tell her mind has started to wander and therefore doesn’t see him approach.  In one swift motion, he brushes the hair from her neck and plants a kiss in his favorite spot.  She hums and touches his face.

“Copper for your thoughts.”  She looks up at him and can see the joy and love in his honey eyes. 

“Oh.  Nothing worth noting.  Except maybe that we might be welcoming Krem into the family soon.”  She points in the direction of the Chargers and he looks over at them.  Krem and Rosalie are now sitting closer together.  So close in fact that sides of their legs are touching. 

Cullen chuckles.  “She could do worse.  Krem is a good man.  My only concern is the… uh… anatomy of said man.”

Shea nods.  “Krem wouldn’t act on this lightly and he wouldn’t blindside her either.  He would want her to be fully informed before going any further.  That I can promise.”

“I suppose we’ll find out.  The Chargers have requested that they accompany you to Val Royeaux.  I’m sure Bull with ask you himself when he sees you.  He just saw me first.”

Shea chuckles and takes his hand.  “Are you my personal secretary now?”

He snorts and leads her towards his table.  “It feels that way sometimes.”

Dorian stands and holds up his glass as they approach.  “Inquisitor!  So happy you could join us!”

She sits in the seat he vacated for her and Cullen sits beside her.  Without a chair, Dorian opts to lean on against the nearby column right next to Branson.  “It’s just Shea tonight, Dorian.  I’m not in uniform after all.”

“Would that dusty old thing even fit at this point?”

“Don’t make me set your robes on fire.”

Laughter erupts around the table.  Cullen wraps his arm around Shea’s shoulders and kisses her cheek.  “Now, now, my love.  No need to get violent.”

She looks over at him and he smiles.  She reaches up and strokes his scar.  He presses his lips against her thumb and then turns back to Cassandra.  “Now, then.  Where were we?”  Cassandra starts up her story again and the others lose themselves in the tale.  Shea is only half listening.  She has resumed her observation of the table.  She watches him laugh and snort at whatever it is she is saying.  No matter the problems that still circle the Inquisition, he is not letting those things impact his mood. 

She marvels at the change in him.  He has come a long way from the man determined to keep his distance, to firmly holding the people around him at arm’s length in attempt to keep his professional image.  Though she knows his addiction still plagues him, for the first time in months she isn’t worried about it.  Because now he is the man she saw underneath the hardened exterior.  The man who was fought his way out of darkness and prevailed. 

He can feel her watching him though her outward appearance lends itself to being invested in the conversation around her.  Her eyes have always been her tell when she isn’t actively trying to hide her expression.  He doesn’t know what has inspired her to stare at him, but he can’t complain.  Her eyes are full of pride and love.  A look he will never get used to.  He spent so much of his life actively avoiding romantic entanglements out of fear that his demon would corrupt it as it had with Danielle that it now constantly surprises him that a woman so young, beautiful, and powerful could look at him the way Shea is looking at him now.  He takes one of her hands and mindlessly plays with her slender fingers.  Unlike his fiancé, he is much better at multitasking tonight.  He hasn’t missed a moment of Cassandra’s story while admiring the woman under his arm.  He reminds himself to thank the Maker again for sending her to him.

When Cassandra finishes her story, they pull their hands apart to applaud.  In that small motion, Cullen gets a feeling in his gut, as he has in the past, that something is coming.  He can name only two times he has felt like this.  The first was Meredith’s downfall.  In the time leading up to her snap, he had a feeling that something was off.  He assumed it was paranoia because he was surrounded by an increasingly malcontent group of mages and their templar allies.  It wasn’t until Meredith all but declared templar law and blocked every attempt to replace the viscount that his feeling started to make sense.  The second time this feeling struck was also in Kirkwall.  As soon as he was Leliana and Cassandra approaching him in The Gallows, the feeling returned.  This time he knew to trust it.  Something big and bad was coming and he would do what he could to prevent that.  And though he considers his initial attempts to have failed, in the long run it seems to have worked out.  And now here it is a third time, occurring during a time of relative peace. While Thedas is on the cusp of a peace they haven’t seen in generations, something inside him is telling him that something bad is brewing.

He feels her fingers press between his eyebrows.  He blinks a few times to compose himself before looking down at her.  “Is something wrong?”  He shakes his head, not trusting that his voice won’t betray him.  “Your furrowed brow says otherwise.”

He clears his throat.  “It’s nothing, love.  Too much ale, too little food.”

She knows it’s a lie, but she lets it go.  If it were something serious, he wouldn’t be so hesitant to say something.  She smiles up at him and runs her finger along his jaw.  “Do we need to call it a night?”

“No.  I’ll be fine.  I just need to get some air.”

“I’ll have food brought over so that it will be here when you return.”

He stands from the table and bends down to press his lips on her forehead.  The smell of her hair fills his nose and he already feels a little better.  “Thank you, love.”  He excuses himself from the table and walks out into the warm night air.  He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.  Even though summer is about to officially begin, Skyhold is always cold.  It’s one of the things he appreciates about it. It will only become slightly warmer than it is now.  Warm enough that coats aren’t required, but still cold enough that the snow on the mountains doesn’t completely thaw.

He sighs and heads towards his office.  It’s supposed to be his night off, but this feeling has given him the need to see if anything vitally important is waiting for him on his desk.  A tug on his sleeve stops him before he can reach the stairs.  He looks back and Cole is standing beside him.  “You should stay with her.  You promised not to work tonight.”

“Can you feel what I’m feeling right now?”

Cole nods.  “Yes.  Fear, familiar, foreshadowing.  Something is coming, but you don’t know what it is.”

“That’s right.”

“She is leaving tomorrow.”  He sighs.  Cole isn’t saying everything he is thinking, which is an improvement from the word vomit he normally throws at him when he is trying to help.  It’s at least an improvement in Cullen’s eyes.  He is saying just enough to distract his mind from the sinking feeling he has.  “I am trying.”

“And you think I should ignore what I’m feeling?”

“Has trying to figure out what it might be warning of helped in the past?  Did it warn you that the Knight-Commander would be possessed by red lyrium?  Or that the conclave would explode?”

“You have a point.”

“It’s your point.”

He chuckles softly.  “I suppose it is.”  He heads back towards the tavern and Cole falls in beside him.  “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping.”

Cole smiles.  “I just told you things you already knew.”

“Yes, but you forced them into the air.  To hear them in one’s mind is different from hearing it aloud.  I will try to remember that the next time you try to help.”

“I still say things I shouldn’t.  But I’m learning.”

“Indeed you are.”

Cole disappears into the tavern without another word.  Cullen chuckles and shakes his head.  The boy might be improving, but he still has a lot to learn about social interactions.  He takes a deep breath before stepping back into the tavern.  He resolves himself to pushing the feeling aside until she leaves so that he can focus on being with her and then processing this feeling without distraction.  He sits down beside her and food gets set in front of him.  He isn’t actually hungry, but if he wants others to believe his lie he’ll have to eat some of it.  When she plucks the bread off the plate, he knows this is for her as much as it is for him.  He wraps his arm around her shoulders and falls back in with the joyous atmosphere as if nothing had happened.

***

When he wakes the next morning, Shea is mostly dressed and ready to go.  She runs her fingers through his messy hair and he rubs his eyes.  “Good morning, my love.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He chuckles and sleepily smiles.  “I’m glad you did.  I would have been quite angry if you had left without saying goodbye.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.  I was just enjoying the peaceful look on your face.”

He presses up on his elbows and looks around the room.  The sun was only barely cresting the mountains.  “Why in the world are you up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

His attention snaps to her face.  Though the room is still fairly dark, he can see the fatigue in her eyes.  “Were you able to sleep at all?”  She shakes her head and a strand of hair comes free from her braids.  He pushes it behind her ear and lets his hand linger there.  “Maybe you should stay.”

“I would if I could.  But time is precious.  And if I want to make it back with six weeks to go before our child is born, then I have to leave now.”

“It doesn’t take that long to get to Val Royeaux.”

“I know.  It’s more that I don’t know what I’ll be doing when I get there.  Whatever that might be, I know what day I have to leave in order to get back.”

“What kept you awake?”

She looks down at his bare chest.  She touches the blonde curls and sighs.  “I’m not sure.  A combination of things.  I’ll be ok.  Not my first restless night, and I sure it won’t be my last.”

“Do try to get some rest on the road.  I know you have trouble with that, but you don’t need to run yourself into the ground just to resign.  Take your time.  As you said, you know when you need to leave in order to get back by your goal.”

She nods and cups his face.  “You should get dressed.  We’re going to leave soon and you need to say goodbye to Branson.  We’re leaving him in Val Royeaux.”

He nods.  “Alright.  I’m up.”  He tosses the covers aside and she moves to let him out of the bed.  He chuckles when he sees her bare feet.  “Need assistance?”

She grins and motions to her boots on the floor.  Knowing she has other things to do to prepare, like making sure Dorian is awake, he kneels to quickly put them on.  She stands when he does and wraps her arms around his neck.  She pulls him to bend to her height and plants a kiss firmly on his lips.  His arms snake around her and he holds her there.  She can feel his excitement rising and attempts to step away from him.  He groans and holds her tighter.  “Just a little longer.”  She sighs and sinks into their embrace.  He chuckles and straightens to full height.  “Alright, I won’t start something you don’t have time to finish.”

She rests her forehead on his chest.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I know it’s been a while.”

“It has.  But I’m sure you’ll let me know when you’re ready.”

“This third party makes it hard to feel… in the mood.”

“I understand, love.  We were expecting this.”

“Not this soon though.”

He smiles and cups her face.  “Everyone is different.  So it’s sooner than expected.  That could mean she is coming early too.”

She playfully hits him before ducking out of his embrace.  “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.  Because then I’m more likely to win.”

“Don’t hold your breath.  I’m certain that I’m winning this bet.”

He smiles and hugs her from behind as she gathers papers on her desk.  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

She nods and turns in his arms.  “Indeed.  Now go get dressed.  I would like to have breakfast with you before we go.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  He kisses her and goes to dress for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 30, 2018


	25. Second Wind

The travel group is already waiting for her in the throne room when she comes back in after checking to make sure the horses, wagon, and carriage are packing and ready.  Cullen sits at one of the dining tables across from his siblings.  Bull and his chargers are seated at a separate table.  Dorian, Cole, and Cassandra are at the end of the table that Cullen is sitting at.  No doubt giving him the space to speak to his siblings, but not wanting to deal with the already rowdy Chargers this early in the morning.  She knows exactly where she should sit.  The former templar is going to have a hard morning despite him saying he doesn’t feel as if the goodbyes will be hard since he has done it already.

She slides into the chair beside him and a member of the kitchen staff sets a steaming plate of food in front of her.  She dives right in, desperately hoping the hot food and tea will provide her the energy she needs to stay awake.  The Rutherfords are quiet and she follows their lead.  She eats and sets her hand on her commander’s thigh.  He glances over at her.  She isn’t looking at him, but the slight squeeze from her hand lets him know she sees him.

He slips his hand under the table to lace his fingers in hers.  He looks up at his siblings.  They appear to just be pushing the food on the plates around.  He smirks.  “You know, Mia would murder the both of you for letting good food go to waste.”

Rosalie looks up at her brother.  “I’m not feeling very hungry.”

“Any particular reason why?”

She shrugs.  “I’m nervous I guess.  I’ve never been on a ship before.  And we just got here and already have to go.  And then we’ll be leaving Branson in Val Royeaux.  And…”

Cullen chuckles.  “It is not a short trip.  First you’ll have to get to Jadar, then cross the Waking Sea.  If you are anything like me, you will hate sailing.”

Shea shakes her head.  “He’s just saying that because he gets seasick.  I love sailing.  I does get old after a while of just sitting on a ship for days, but in the summer, the breeze off the water is warm.  The waves sends mist into the air and the smell is…”

“Please stop, love.  You’re making me seasick just sitting here.”

The three of them laugh.  Shea turns her attention to Branson.  “And why aren’t you eating?”

“I was just thinking about Krissy and Noah.  I’m already so far away from them and I’m about to go further.  Not to mention all things I need to do when I arrive.”

“Try not to dwell on it. You’ll lose your mind that way.  And I imagine you’ve written to her already?”

He nods.  “There was a letter waiting for me in my room when we arrived.  She must have sent it ahead so that I would receive it right away.”

Shea looks at the three siblings.  “I know this is hard for you all.  But you will all see each other again.  Plus with the resources at your disposal, you have access to some of the fastest birds in Thedas.”

Rosalie chuckles.  “That’s only helpful if someone actually writes.”

“I’ll make sure that he does.”

Branson nods.  “Writing letters is part of my job, so that will be no problem for me.”

Rosalie smiles and spears a piece of fruit with her fork.  “Then there’s nothing to be worried about.  I’m just going to enjoy this trip every step of the way.  I do have a letter to send Mia.  Would it be alright to send it before we leave?”

“Sure.  The rockery is at the top of the rotunda.”

“Uh… where is that?”

Shea points to the door.  “Through there.  Can’t miss it.”

The siblings chatter as they finish their breakfast.  Like she did in South Reach, Shea opts to meet them at the carriage to give them a moment alone while they say their goodbyes to each other.  The Chargers and her companions are first to arrive with Rosalie not far behind them.  Shea figures this is because Branson and Cullen might not see each other for quite some time after this and a more permanent goodbye, like the one they gave to Mia, is in order.  A few words with Rosalie confirms this.

Shea spots Cullen and Branson walking down the steps from the throne room and nudges Rosalie.  The two of them stand near the carriage and wait.  Dorian brushes past them and climbs in the carriage, clearly opting to ride in comfort instead of on horseback.  Shea lets the siblings say one more collective goodbye.  It is brief but she can see that the hugs are bone crushing, particularly that of the brothers.  Branson mounts a horse next to Cassandra and Rosalie takes Dorian’s hand as she steps into the carriage.  Now it’s her turn.  They are used to this by now.  They’ve been doing it since day one. 

He takes both of her hands.  He stares into her eyes as he turns her left hand over in his hand.  He caresses her mark with his thumb and steps closer to her.  “Got everything you need?”

“Yes.”

“Look out for each other.”

She smiles.  This is the exact same conversation they have every time she leaves in some form of fashion.  She’s never asked him about this goodbye ritual, but if she had to venture a guess, she would say that this is his way of shifting into fulltime commander mode in her absence.  This is his attempt to make the distance bearable.  There is a hint of something else is this line today.  It doesn’t take a genius to know what that is.  More that you just need to possess a few key details.  To her, the change is Rosalie but more specifically Branson.  He is entering a viper’s nest and will be living in its shadows for the foreseeable future.  Shea needs to give him a crash course in the game before he arrives.

“Naturally.”

He steps closer to her and she is forced to gaze up at him.  He looms over her as close as he can get.  “I love you.”

“I love you as well.”

He drops her hands and cups her face with both hands.  She grabs the fabric of his armor.  “Be safe.”

She smirks.  “Always.”  He bends down as she presses up on her toes.  He holds her face to his and she grips him for balance.  The kiss is never long, but they put everything they have into it.  Neither wanting to leave the other without them feeling the full force of the love they feel for the other.  When they part, he steps back from her and rests his hands on the hilt of his sword.  She briefly touches his scar before turning to climb into the carriage.  No sooner does she sit down, does it begin to move.  She knows he will stand there until they enter the keep.  And that is the moment she will take one final glance in his direction.  Rosalie is already hanging out the window and waving like a mad woman.

For Shea and Cullen all that is needed is for their eyes to lock.  As the shadow of the keep looms over head, Shea leans out the side of the carriage just enough to see him.  Amber locks with blue.  Her favorite half smirk appears on his face as he turns towards his office.  She sits back against the wall of the carriage, grinning to herself, as they descend the spiraled ramp.

Dorian chuckles which pulls Shea out of her traditional quiet moment after the goodbye.  She tilts her head to the side and he smiles at her.  “I’ve never seen that part of your goodbye before.”

“Which part in particular?”

“That last look.”

She chuckles.  “I didn’t imagine you would.  Normally you are riding ahead of me and already on the ramp when I stop to look back at him.”

Rosalie sighs contentedly.  Dorian looks over at the blonde beside him.  “And what was that for?”

“It’s sickening isn’t it?  How sweet they are together?”

Dorian chuckles. “Oh I quite agree.  Absolutely revolting.”

Shea smirks and folds her arms.  “Jealous are you?”

Dorian scoffs.  “Hardly.”

Rosalie looks over at the mage beside her.  “That’s a lie, right?”

Dorian and Shea laugh.  “Of course it’s a lie, duckling.  My Amatus would never do something like that in public.  He is much too crass for that.”

“You’re with The Iron Bull, right?”

“Yes.  Quite the scandal where I’m from.”

Shea chuckles.  “For him too.  Though I’m not sure they’d care much about it now.”

Rosalie tilts her head slightly, “Why is that?”

“He’s Qunari.  And I’m a Vint, as he would say.  I imagine our relationship would be very different under the Qun.”

Rosalie nods.  “It is quite romantic, though.  Star-crossed lovers.  Not letting your origins interfere with who you love.”

“Is that also a reference to your growing interest in Lieutenant Aclassi?”

“Who is that?”

They both laugh.  Shea smiles at her future sister-in-law.  “He means Krem.  His full name is Cremisius Aclassi.”

“Oh Krem!”  Her cheeks turn bright red and she attempts to hide her face with her curls.

Dorian smiles brightly.  “So, blushing is a family trait.  Good to know.”

Shea leans forward in her seat.  “So… is that a reference to Krem?”

Rosalie looks out the window as they roll into the valley below Skyhold.  “What origins would interfere if I were?”

Shea bites her lip and looks at Dorian, who shrugs.  She isn’t sure how much she should say.  It should really be Krem’s job to explain.  “Well… he used to be a Tevinter Solider.”

Dorian nods.  “He fled Tevinter and then joined the Chargers.”

Rosalie looks at Shea with determination burning in her golden eyes.  “I don’t care about that.  You of all people should know that after what I told you.”

“True.  Krem isn’t a slaver.  And he is a good man.  There’s just… more to the story.  One that you should hear from him.”

Rosalie nods.  “I got that impression.  That he’s a good man.  We didn’t get to talk much last night.  A noisy, crowded tavern isn’t the best place to get to know someone.”

Dorian slouches into the seat and rests his arm behind Rosalie.  “But you are interested?”

“He gave a good first impression.  He has an excellent sense of humor.  Though he’d have to if he wanted to keep up with The Iron Bull and the rest of the Chargers.  They are a lively bunch.  Dalish knows that no one buys the archer thing right?”

Shea laughs.  “She’d be stupid not to.  But I can understand why she doesn’t claim to be a mage.  Until recently, being an apostate got you locked up, hunted, or killed.  Or some combination of those.”

“And not necessarily in that order.  But don’t fret, duckling.  The Chargers know how to handle themselves.  More than you do, I’m sure.”  Dorian pats the top of Rosalie’s head and she glares at him.  “Easy now.  If you want to hang with that lot, you’re going to need to work on your ability to tell when someone is joking with you.”

“No.  I’m glaring because you have a point.  I don’t know how to handle myself.  Especially in their world.  I’m a farm girl from Ferelden.  I barely hunted back home.  That was Branson’s job.  The glare was more the realization of my own inadequacies than your comment.  Maker help us if we get into a fight.  I’ll be useless.”

Dorian wraps his arm around her shoulders and gives her a gentle squeeze.  “Don’t worry, duckling.  Shea can fix that.”

Shea smirks.  “Or Krem.”

Rosalie smirks.  “Oh, I like that.”  She bats her eyelashes at Dorian.  “Excuse me, Krem?  I don’t know how to fight.  Do you think you could show me how?”

Dorian laughs loudly.  “You, my little duckling, are nothing like your brother.”

Shea shakes her head.  “You’d be surprised at how smooth that man can be.”

“Says the woman who has never flirted with anyone else in her whole life.”

“Says the man I flirt with on a regular basis.”

“True.  And I so enjoy it.  One of the many things I’ll miss when…”

Shea leans forward and covers his mouth with her hand.  “Don’t you dare.  This trip is about having fun.  So I don’t want to hear talk like that.  Understand?”  He kisses the palm of her hand and nods.  “When did the nickname start, by the way?”  She removes her hand and he smirks.

“Are you jealous, darling?”

“As far as I know, I only have two nicknames.  Well, one nickname and one pet name.  You call everyone dear or darling.  So, why is Rosalie called duckling?”

Rosalie looks over at him.  “I was wondering the same thing actually.”

“I’m not sure exactly.  It just feels right.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with your infatuation with my fiancé would it?”

He smirks.  “The resemblance is striking, but no.  I don’t call him anything like that.  Commander fits him.”

Rosalie giggles.  “I bet you’d like him to command you.”

Dorian gasps and places his hand on his chest.  “You’d speak that way of your own brother?  In front of his future bride and mother of his child?  For shame!”

Shea scoffs.  “You’ve… said worse about him.”

“Yes, but _he_ is not _my_ brother.”

“Does it shock you, ser, that I am not as… polite as my brother?”

Shea laughs.  “You think she’s bad, you should hear their brother.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.  A Rutherford who might return my advances.”

“Branson is happily married and in love with his wife.”

Rosalie shrugs.  “Though… I’m not sure that would stop him from playing along.  At least for a little while.  Granted he would likely think you were joking and not actually trying to bed him.”

Dorian smirks at Shea and strokes his moustache.  “It would be an empty attempt and a poor substitute for the Rutherford I would truly like to bed.”

Shea rolls her eyes and looks out the window.  Rosalie giggles and turns in her seat to face Dorian.  They chat together as Shea watches them travel through the valley and then up on of the mountain passes that she is all too familiar with by now.  She supposes she should try to sleep since she hasn’t slept soundly in days.  She looks up at the scared sky swirling almost directly above them.  The sky is devoid of all clouds, which is the telltale sign that summer has arrived.  The green stands out against the bright blue sky.  The birds flying overhead give it a wide berth. 

It has been almost seven months since she sealed the Breach for good and killed Corypheus.  Thinking about that makes her certain that Josephine is already plaining the banquet and party for the anniversary of his death.  Though it also marks two years since the death of Divine Justinia.  It will be interesting to see how Southern Thedas opts to commemorate the day.  Probably a mixture of honoring the dead and celebrating the defeat of the ancient magister.  She has no opinion on what the day should entail only that she is glad it is over.  She wishes the world would have given her some sort of break after defending it from destruction, but knowing her luck she probably should have expected it.  She isn’t sure she’d even know what to do with herself if there wasn’t something going on that she needed to fix.  She lays down on her side in the seat and covers her face with her arm.  She doesn’t feel tired in the slightest, but she knows she has to try. 

***

Shea feels dead on her feet when they arrive in Jadar.  Rosalie and Branson are buzzing in her ear about how magnificent the ship looks.  Dorian has been a master at intercepting and she blesses his name when he comes to save her again.  The bags under her eyes are deep and her body aches with need for rest.  She has tried to sleep, but has only managed an hour or two a night.  She won’t last long in this state.  She has no idea what is causing this insomnia, but she prays to the Maker for it to end.  She seriously considers having Dorian place a sleeping spell on her.  At this rate, her body will give out before they even reach Val Royeaux.

She drags herself up the ramp and to the ship.  She greets the captain cheerfully enough, but can’t process what it is she is saying.  He shows her to her quarters and she falls into bed as soon as she is alone.  She feels bad for not being there to witness their first trip across the sea, particularly since she knows that Rosalie is nervous about it.  She closes her eyes and prays for sleep to take her.

A knock on the door makes her groan.  She sits up and the door opens.  It’s Dorian.  “Sorry to bother you.  But your presence is being requesting on deck.”

“Ugh.  What now?”

“I don’t know.  Everything seems to be in order.”  She forces herself out of bed and Dorian catches her as her knees give out.  “That’s it.  I’m making you sleep once we get going.”

She releases a large yawn as she straightens herself.  “I’d appreciate it.  I just wish I knew why sleep is evading me.”

“A little magic will solve that problem.”

She hooks her arm in his and motions for him to lead the way.  They walk onto the deck and are greeting by shouting.  Krem, Bull, Cassandra, and Branson are standing between Rosalie and an unknown man.  She is yelling at him.  “What is going on here?”

Rosalie spins to face Shea and points at the man.  “He is supposed to be in jail.  Or dead.”

“Miss.  I work on this ship and have for years.  I don’t know who you think I am, but…”

“Rosalie.  Is this the same man?”

Rosalie nods.  “I will never forget his face.  Never.  So, my question is what is a slaver doing in Jadar?  And not locked up in Denerim?  Or dead?”

Shea narrows her tired eyes at the attractive, swarthy man.  She is too tired to read him and she looks to Bull.  “Would you mind asking him a few questions?”

“My pleasure, Boss.”

The man holds up his hands and backs away.  “Look.  I’m not who you think I am.  I’m a deckhand.  Nothing more.”

“Then you won’t mind answering a few questions.”

The man looks at the captain who is standing near the railing.  “Captain, please.  Tell them.”

The captain shrugs.  “I’m inclined to believe the young lady.  You don’t talk about your past much.”

Branson looks back at his sister and then at the man in front of him.  “Where are you from?”

“Clearly, I am Antivan.”

Bull chuckles.  “That’s a lie.”

Branson crosses his arms over his chest.  “Not off to a good start.”

Dorian pats Shea’s arm and moves to stand beside the men.  The man sees him and takes a few steps back.  Dorian smirks.  “Is there a reason you are backing away from me?”

“You’re…”

“Oh.  Does my reputation proceed me?”

“You’re a magister.”

Krem snorts.  “Chief, does he think we’re stupid?”

“Looks like it.”

The man sneers and takes a step back.  Dorian swings his staff off his back and points it at the man.  “One step more and I freeze you solid.”

Rosalie moves to Shea.  “It’s him.  I swear it.”

“I believe you.”  Shea looks at the captain.  “Where did you pick him up?  I haven’t seen him on your ship before?”

“Inquisitor.  This man has worked for me for years.  But on one of my other ships.”

“Where did that ship travel?”

“It’s a vessel that travels from Denerim to various locations in the Free Marches.  I rent it out to merchants mostly.”

Rosalie nods.  “That’s where he was taken after he was arrested in South Reach.”

“Miss, I have never been arrested before.  Much less been to this South Reach.”

Bull steps towards the man.  “Another lie.”

Shea nods.  “Make him talk, Bull.  We’ll send him gift wrapped to Denerim when it’s done.”

Branson and Bull grab the man as he turns to flee.  “Mind if I assist with the integration?”

Bull shrugs.  “Looking to learn something?”

Branson chuckles.  “Perhaps.  I also don’t want the skills I already have to get rusty.”

Shea nods and turns back to her cabin.  “Captain.  I’ll pay you for the extra time we need to stay in port.  This should also provide you an extra day to find a replacement for this man.”

The captain bows to her.  “I’m terribly sorry for this, Inquisitor.  If I had known he was a criminal…”

“It’s not the criminal aspect that concerns me.  It’s the potential escape and his particular crimes that concern me.  If Rosalie is correct, and I believe she is, this man was a slaver.  He took people from their homes all over Ferelden and took them Maker knows where.  I do not condone slavery.”

“Nor do I.  And I prefer to hire good honest men.”

“I know and you have been with the Inquisition of a long time now.  We have used your services plenty of times.”

“I still remember the day my man harpooned you like it was yesterday.”

Shea chuckles.  “As do I.”

“The Inquisition has been good for my business and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that friendship.”

“From what I’ve heard of this man, he is an expert conman.  I doubt you would have hired him if you thought he was an escaped prisoner.”

“Of course not!  Imagine how that would impact my work!  I’d summon the guard now if we were in Ferelden.”

“We’ll take it from here.  Now, I must retire.  If you’ll excuse me.”

The captain bows to her and she goes back into her cabin.  She collapses on the bed and Dorian stands over her.  “They didn’t need me.”

She nods and curls up on her side.  He summons his magic and ways it over her.  Within seconds she begins to fall into a deep sleep.  “I will wake you when I think you have slept long enough.”

“Ok.”  She heavy lids close and she slips into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

Dorian quietly exits and closes the door.  He approaches Rosalie, who is still visibly angry, and places a hand on her shoulder.  She looks up at him.  “Have they taken him away?”  She nods.  “And he’s who you were telling me about on the way here?”  She nods again.  “He is definitely a looker.  I feel as if I’ve seen him before, but I rarely paid attention to his type back home.”

Krem comes to stand beside him.  “He’s definitely Tevinter.  You heard his accent.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he worked out of Minrathous.”

“It would explain why he showed fear at seeing me.  Though it is rare to see a Tevinter slaver who isn’t…”  Dorian looks around the ship.  “Did they take him below deck or off the ship?”

“Off the ship.  Why?”

“Krem, have you ever met a Tevinter slaver?”

“Just the one my father sold himself to.  What’s your point?”

“Keep her here.  I need to warn them.”

Rosalie grabs his arm.  “Warn them about what?”

“If I’m right, that man is a mage.  And if I’m right, which I always am about these things, he’s a blood mage.  Your brother is not prepared to interrogate a blood mage.”

She lets go of his arm and shoves him.  “What are you waiting for then?”

“Where exactly did they go?”

Krem looks at Rosalie.  She shoves him.  “Go!  I’ll stay here with the rest of the Chargers.”

Dorian and Krem take off after Bull, Branson, and their prisoner. Rosalie leans on the railing of the ship and watches them go.  A few moments later, she spots the man running towards the ship.  “Oh no.  What do I do?”

She looks around the ship and spots Grim leaning on a barrel.  She runs up to him.  “Grim!  He’s back!”  She points.  He grunts and shoves off his spot.  He stands at the top of the gangway and crosses his arms.  The man stops at the bottom.  Then he freezes solid.

Dorian comes into view and chuckles.  “I did warn him.”

Rosalie peers around Grim.  “Are Branson and Bull alright?”

“A little pissed, but fine.  Your brother has sent word to Ferelden that we have a gift for them.  They should return shortly.”

Grim moves back to his previous spot.  Rosalie thanks him for standing between them as he passes and he grunts.  She looks back at Dorian as he walks back onto the ship.  “Not a man of many words it seems.”

“If he ever speaks, the Chargers will lose their minds.”

They chuckle and stand watch over the frozen slaver as they wait for the others to return.

***

_Inquisitor Trevelyan,_

_Thank for returning our escaped prisoner.  We aren’t sure how he escaped, but we’re looking into it.  We had assumed you would have levied your own punishment on him as you have to your prisoners in the past.  This is an improvement to be sure.  Your men inform us that this man is a Tevinter mage.  How do you suggest we handle him?  Tranquility and imprisonment?  Death?  Your advice on the matter would be greatly appreciated._

_We are also informed by your men that you are on your way to Val Royeaux to resign.  I look forward to the formal notice her most holy will send out to announce it.  This will prove if you are a woman of your word and will be a step in the right direction in mending things with my country._

_Sincerely,_

_Arl Teagan Guerrin of Redcliffe_

 

Shea is convinced this is a test.  If she responds with advice on how to punish the prisoner, it could be interrupted to be interference in Ferelden affairs even though she is being asked.  She taps her fingers on the wood next to the parchment in front of her.  If she is too dismissive of how they handle him, then she could she seen as trying to distance herself even further from Ferelden and thus adding to their mistrust of her.  Should she even address the second half of the letter?  She doesn’t want to antagonize them when things are already fragile.  She sighs and dips her quill in ink.

 

_Arl Teagan,_

_What my men said is true.  I am writing you from my room in Val Royeaux this very moment.  My meeting with Divine Victoria is tomorrow morning.  You should receive this letter mere moments before the announcement of my resignation._

_As for the prisoner, it is up to Ferelden to decide what should be done with him.  My advice would be to do whatever you think you need to in order to prevent him from escaping again.  Both of those options are good ones.  I have a feeling that Queen Danielle and King Alistair feel similarly to myself in regards to slavery.  I heard stories of the things going on in the alienage in Denerim during the Blight.  The wardens put a slaver to death then.  Maybe that would be the best course of action in this case as well.  It would send a message to other slavers that Ferelden citizens are protected and they might think twice before kidnapping any of your citizens again._

_I hope that helps._

_Sincerely,_

_Inquisitor Shea Trevelyan_

She reads her letter a few times to make sure that it is as transparent and neutral as it can be.  Satisfied, she folds the letter and sticks it up her sleeve to pass off to one of her messengers.  She stands and heads down to meet Rosalie and Branson for dinner.  She wants to show them a few of the sights before they have to turn in for the night.  Dorian has had to cast a spell over her every couple of nights just so that she can get some sleep.  She is convinced that it’s all the travel that is keeping her awake.  Maybe even a little bit of the pressure of all the hats she currently has to wear.  She has a feeling she will sleep better once she has resigned.

Rosalie, Branson, Dorian, Cassandra, and Krem are waiting for her outside the inn.  Rosalie and Branson are looking around at the red silks that are draped everywhere and the golden lions in the center of the starry courtyard.  Shea spots one of their people and pulls the letter from her sleeve.  She motions for the man to approach her.  Rosalie spots the letter in her hand.  “Are you having letters sent off?”

“Indeed I am.”

“I wrote one for Mia. Could you send it for me?”

The scout takes the letter from Shea and Rosalie.  “You’ll need separate ravens.  One is going to South Reach and the other to Denerim.  Be sure you don’t mix them up.”  The scout salutes and goes off to do his business.

Shea turns to Rosalie and smiles.  “How do you like Val Royeaux so far?”

“It’s beautiful!  When we go shopping, do you think we could buy one of those masks?  There is no way a description would do them justice.”

“It would be quite the souvenir.  Nothing is more Orlesian than those masks.”

Dorian chuckles.  “I could name a few others things, but you can’t buy those things in a store.”

They set off to enjoy the night.  Shea takes this as a good moment to talk to Krem without Bull around.  Dorian is already distracting Rosalie and Cassandra is talking to Branson.  Both Rutherfords are even more distracted by their surroundings.  Shea hooks her arm into Krem’s.  He looks over at her.  His is a little shocked at the familiar gesture.  She smiles at him.  “How have you been, Krem?”

“Good.  A little bored since you killed Corypheus, but the Chargers keep getting job offers, so the money is good.”

“Any news on the relationship front?”

He chuckles.  “I had a feeling that’s what this was about.  I’m already being teased by them.  Might as well as add you to that list too.”

“I’m not here to tease you, Krem.  Need I remind you what happened with the last woman you had a thing for?”

He looks ahead at Cassandra and Branson.  “I never did give her that book.”

“Maybe you could give it to Rosalie.”

“I don’t think she’s interested.”

Shea laughs.  “Oh, Krem.  You know nothing about women.”

“You think… but she’s… gorgeous.  There is no way she’d be interested in… someone like me.”

“Do you think all women bat their eyelashes like that when they are asking for training?”  He looks at Rosalie’s back and watches her curls bounce as she walks and talks with Dorian.  Her laughter fills the air.  Then she glances over her shoulder and her eyes meet his for just a moment before she snaps her head forward.  Shea chuckles.  “And do women who aren’t interested often look at you like that?”

“Do you think she’ll care… that I’m passing?”

“She doesn’t know yet.  I felt that was something you should bring up.  She isn’t bothered by you being a former Tevinter solider.  She isn’t bothered by your career.  She thinks you are funny and have a great sense of humor.  She wants to spend time with you.  Other than that, she doesn’t know you.  But she wants to.  I can’t say how she’ll react, but she is very levelheaded and open-minded.  If anyone can accept you for who you are, I think it’s her.”

He thinks on her words while they walk towards the restaurant.  He nods and looks over at Shea.  He jumps at little when he sees Cole walking beside her.  “Sun, sweet, strong.  Her eyes sparkle when she sees you.  Gentle, patient, kind.  More understanding than the Commander.  Like Shea, but different.”

Shea is used to Cole popping up by now, so she just turns to look at him.  “Is that your way of saying she’ll be ok when he tells her?”

“Didn’t I say that?”

Shea pats Krem’s arm.  “There’s your answer then.”

“I suppose it is.  It feels wrong to know what she’s thinking without talking to her.”

“I could make you forget.”

“Uh… no.  Thank you.  Is it weird to talk to her with her brother around?”

Shea smirks.  “You won’t have too many opportunities if that’s what you are waiting for.  They are probably going to spend as much time together as they can since we’re leaving Branson here when we leave.”

He nods.  “And the Chargers have picked up a job in the area.”  He runs his hand through his hair.  “No time like the present.”  Shea lets go of his arm.  He walks up on the other side of Rosalie and the three of them talk for a little while before Dorian makes up some excuse to step away.

Shea smiles at Cole.  “Thank you for that.”

“He needed help.”

“That he did.”  Cole slows his walking and she follows his pace.  He plays with the edge of his shirt, a tell that she has picked up on when Cole has something to say, but may not know if he should.  “Would you like to join us for dinner, Cole?  I know you don’t eat, but it might be nice to spend time with the group.”

“Yes.”

She smiles at him and they walk a little quicker in attempt to catch up with the others.

***

The next day is full of formal engagements.  Shea thought it would be easy to hand Leliana the ring, but she is mistaken.  The former spymaster might be good at hiding her emotions, but Shea spots a hint of sadness in the Divine’s eyes when she bows before her to resign.  It never occurred to her that she had actually been her choice for her Right Hand.  She had always assumed it was given to her to save Cullen from being carted off to Starkhaven.  Yet both women know that this is the best thing for the Inquisition and Southern Thedas.  It would cool Ferelden off for a time and buy them a few more months of peace.

Branson’s ceremony is held that same day and in secret.  The Left Hand is the Divine’s spymaster in a sense.  Branson being an agent of the Inquisition in the Divine’s service and Commander Cullen’s younger brother is all anyone needs to know.  Until Divine Justinia’s death, no one even knew who her Left Hand truly was and that is how it is supposed to be.  Leliana gives Branson a day to find a house and to settle his affairs before his training begins.  Once it does, it will be sometime before he’ll be able to see or speak to his family.

With her business taken care of, all she has left to do is have some fun with her friends and wait for Branson to be called away.  She makes the decision to stay in Val Royeaux for a couple more days.  That is enough time to help Branson find a house, allow Rosalie sometime to say goodbye to him, and get some shopping in before she has to get back on the ship to Skyhold.

Val Royeaux is much larger than Shea ever realized in her travels, since she never strayed far from the Summer Bazaar, which makes house hunting a challenge.  You have to have a lot of coin and know the right people to score a house that had all the things a master spy and family man would need.  Quick and easy access to the Grand Cathedral as well as the main thoroughfare and alleys.  Somewhere that could safely house a wife and child without drawing too much attention to it.  Though upon further reflection, the family aspect isn’t the most important since it would be a long while before Krissy and Noah joined him.  So he will settle for room somewhere if he needs to.

Branson is lucky he is travelling with the Inquisitor and working for the Divine.  Already word has spread that a friend of the Inquisitor is looking to buy a home in Val Royeaux.  Branson, Rosalie, and Shea are sitting together having lunch when several messengers come up to them.  They present invitations for tours of homes for sale.  Homes that the current owners would be honored to part with if it would house such distinguished people. 

Shea smirks at Branson as she reads them.  “The game is so predictable.  You were worried about calling too much attention to our hunt?  Well, nothing happens in Val Royeaux that goes unnoticed.  Use that to your advantage and the information will come to you.”  She slides a letter towards him.  “This man here.  He’s an admirer of your brother and thus a friend to the Inquisition.”

Branson chuckles, “Cullen has Orlesian admirers?  How does he feel about that?”

“He hates it.  I find it amusing.  They send him letters.  Some of them are rather racy.  He has no idea that I read them.  He burns them without opening them for the most part, but I get copies of all Cullen’s letters from Orlais.  I make it my business to know who is interested in him.  It’s amusing and in this case extremely useful.  This gentleman is going to shit when he finds out the house is for Cullen’s younger brother.  Though he’ll be heartbroken to hear you are already married.”

“So why this man?  Why not one of the others?”

“We can go see each one if you like.  But if I’ve learned anything from all this walking around we’ve done today, this seems like a good location.  If you like it, then I’m sure he will give you a good price.  Well, good for Val Royeaux and you’ll be making a well-connected contact.  He was invited to the peace talks at Halamshiral after all.”

He nods.  “Then we’ll head there first.  If it goes well, then I can get some help settling in before…”  He glances at Rosalie.  “Before I have to attend to my duties.”

Rosalie sighs.  “So, this is it then?  You find a house, get settled in, and then start this new position?”

He nods.  “Don’t worry, dear sister.  We’ll have time to say goodbye.”

Naturally, Shea is right.  The house is perfect and completely furnished.  The noble cuts the price in half when he discovers that Branson is a younger version of his brother.  There is a lot of backside pinching which Branson plays along with in spite of already telling the man he is married.  Shea can already tell he’s a natural at the game and will settle into his new role with ease.

Rosalie opts to spend the night with Branson is his new house and promises to meet Shea in the Bazaar by mid-morning.  Shea bids her final farewell to Branson before returning to her room for the night.

When she gets to the inn, she sees the familiar pointed hat standing outside with Dorian.  “Inquisitor!  Such a pleasure to see you again!”

“Madame Vivienne.  I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“I was already in Val Royeaux believe it or not.  There is a lot to do now that Her Most Holy has dismantled the Circle.”

“Really?  I thought the mages formed the College of Enchanters.”

“They did, but we loyalists have a hard time following Fiona after what has transpired.  We need to decide what to do.  But that is not why we’re here.  This is supposed to be a mini-vacation for you, my dear.  I have set up some appointments in the best shops in Val Royeaux.  Including the one Josephine asked me to set up at your request.”

“They had an opening?”

“For you, my dear?  Of course!”

“When is that?  It’s the one thing I’m doing for myself while we’re here and I don’t want to miss it.”

Vivienne smiles and motions for them to go in.  “Just after lunch.”

Dorian hooks his arm in Shea’s.  “Would you like anyone to go with you?”

She smiles apologetically at him.  “I think this is something I should do on my own.  I want it to be a surprise and that’s easier to do with fewer witnesses.”  They walk together into the inn

“Understandable.  Do you need me to help you get to sleep tonight?”

Vivienne touches Shea’s arm to stop their walking.  “Have you been having trouble sleeping?”

“A little.  Things have gotten better since Dorian has been putting me to sleep every few nights.”

“Any idea what’s causing that?”

She shakes her head.  “No idea.  Just insomnia, I guess.  I’m sure it’s fine.”  She groans.  “Damn it.  I forgot to go see Ann today.”

“Ann?”

“My midwife.  I was supposed to check in.  I should probably do that first thing tomorrow.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand, my dear.  You’ve been with your family all day.”

She smiles.  “They aren’t my family yet, Madame Vivienne.”

“Soon enough, I’m sure.”

Dorian scoffs.  “Don’t hold your breath.  Josie and I have been trying to get them to set a date for months now.”

“You should really decide on that.  All the best places have waiting lists.”

“Who can think of a wedding when I’m so busy travelling for the Inquisition?”

Dorian pats her arm and heads for the stairs.  “Darling, your life is only going to get more hectic when that little one enters the world.”

Vivienne laughs and heads towards the front door.  “And travelling is the perfect time to scout locations.  Ta!”  She waves as she closes the door behind her.  Dorian holds out his hand and she takes it as they head up the stairs.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help tonight?”

She chuckles, “After all the walking I did today, I hope to fall asleep easily.”

“Let’s hope so.  I worry about you.”

They stop outside the door to her room.  “I know you do.  If I need you, I know where to find you.”

“Well, you do need me for one thing.”  He kneels in front of her and unlaces her boots.  She steps out of them and allows him to pull off her socks.  She lets out a sigh of relief as her aching feet are freed.

“Thank you.  I almost forgot to ask.”

He stands up and hands the boots and socks to her.  He kisses her forehead and heads down the hall.  “Good night, Shea.  Don’t hesitate to come get me if you need to.”

“I promise I’ll come get you if I can’t get to sleep.”

“You better.”

She goes into her room and closes the door.  She drops the boots on the ground and quickly changes into Cullen’s shirt.  She presses the sleeve to her face and sighs.  It still smells like him, though the smell has slightly faded since leaving Skyhold.  She catches a glimpse of herself in the floor length mirror in the corner by the bathroom and stops.  She looks terrible.  The bags under her eyes are starting to look like bruises.  The sleeping spell might be helping her body get the sleep it needs, but she is clearly not getting rest from it.  Her eyes trail down her body and land on the now pronounced bump.  She doesn’t even need to pull the shirt tight to fully see the difference.  She rests her hands on her belly.  She turns away from the mirror and heads for her bed.  She needs to try to sleep while she’s feeling tired or she’ll miss her chance.

She throws the covers back and slips beneath them.  She settles on her side and grabs one of the spare pillows to place between her knees.  She feels lonely laying in the middle of the large bed.  She tries not to dwell on that feeling.  She fears that if she lets her mind think of anything other than nothing, she’ll miss this chance to get to sleep on her own.  She closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing.  She groans as sleep evades her.

She sits up, opens her eyes, and finds herself in a grassy field.  She jumps up and nearly screams with joy.  She never thought she’d miss the fade, but here it is.  She is truly asleep.  She marvels at the soft grass between her bare toes.  She knows without looking down at herself that she has elven wraps on her legs, which is now normal for her while she’s walking the fade.  She skips around the little field. Enjoying the freedom she feels and the knowledge that she will wake fully rested in the morning. 

She feels a presence and stops in her tracks.  It’s not unpleasant, so she knows it’s not the creature that hunts her.  She carefully examines her surroundings.  She spots a rustle in the bushes a little ways from her.  She goes down on one knee and watches it.  The feeling is familiar as if she knows what is watching her.  Taking the chance and trusting this feeling, she holds out her hand.  “You can come out.  I won’t hurt you.”  She sees a small set of pink toes stick out of the bottom of the bush.  She smiles.  These are clearly the toes of a child.  “Come on out.  It’s ok.”

Her breath catches in her throat as the child steps fully out of the bush.  Her heart races and tears spring to her eyes.  There is no mistaking who this child is.  She places her hand over her heart.  She watches him approach, chewing on his thumb nail.  The mass of blonde curls and bright blue eyes giving away his identity.  She stays perfectly still as he tentatively touches one of the fingers of her outstretched hand.  She is glad she chose to reach out with her right hand.  She is instantly afraid that the mark will scare the child off.  He wraps his hand around one of her fingers and then looks into her eyes.  Her heart stops.  This is her child.  She is sure of it.  “Hi.”

He blinks at her and nibbles on his lip.  She wants to hug him to her chest and cry.  He looks just like she imagined he would.  But maybe he looks like this because her mind is altering the fade.  Regardless, this child in front of her is real.  She knows a dreamer when she sees one, especially when it touches her.  Spirits and demons don’t feel the same as mages.  She knows this from her interactions with Danielle.

“I’m Shea.”  He nods and points to her stomach.  She looks down at her bump and smiles up at the child.  “Are you saying that’s you?”  He nods.  “Feeling a little shy?”  He nods and pops the thumb of his free hand into his mouth.  “Well, that’s alright.  We can just sit here if you like.  Maybe watch the clouds.  I could make them into shapes for you.”  He nods and plops down into the grass.  She sits down and then lays down on her back.  He curls closer to her and settles in close to her arm.  She lifts it and he slides in further.  He rests is head on her arm and she sighs.  When Morrigan asked if she had dreamt with her child, she never imagined that this is what she meant.  If only she knew where Morrigan was so she could tell her about this experience.  She points to the sky with her marked hand and the fluffy white clouds shift above them.  She hears the little boy giggle beside her.

He points at the cloud she has shaped.  “Bunny!”

Her heart sings.  Maker help her she has already lost her heart to this little boy and she doesn’t know him yet.  He doesn’t have a name yet.  But she knows now that she is having a son.  It dawns on her as she shapes the next cloud that she can’t tell Cullen about this.  He wants to be surprised.  They had made a deal that they would not try to discover the child’s sex until it was born.  But how was she to know that this is how she would find out.

“Dragon!”

“You are a very smart little boy.  I supposed I shouldn’t have expected differently.”

The clouds shift above and her mouth falls open.  His little finger moves and the clouds obey him.  Her son is a mage.  There is no doubt in her mind.  She smiles when the cloud’s shape forms.

“Is that a nug?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know what a nug looks like?”

“You’ve seen lots of them.”

She nods.  “Yes, I have.  So, you learn things as I see them?”

“Yup.”

“What else can you make?”

She watches him shape the clouds again.  She can’t stop the pride and tears that flow from her.  She watches him form a bear, than a ram, and then a horse.

“That’s very good!”

“Thanks.”

“I could stay here all night.”

“Or we could explore!”

“Is that what you want?”

He hops up off the ground and holds out his hand.  She takes it and stands.  “Do you have a location in mind?”

“Skyhold!”

“Alright.  Hold onto my hand as tight as you can, ok?”  He nods and squeezes her hand.  She closes her eyes and pictures the courtyard in Skyhold.  She feels the fade shift around her and when she opens her eyes again they are standing in the vine covered fade version of Skyhold.  “It doesn’t look like this in the waking world, but very close.”

“Sky!”  He points towards a black bird flying around the top of her tower.  She knows Cullen is probably sleeping up there and if she isn’t careful she could stumble into his dream.  Which is best avoided with her son in tow.  Who knows what he could be dreaming about?  The bird seems to be ignoring their presence which makes her believe that the bird is merely dreaming and not actually in the fade.  Could she dream?  It is possible.  That bird is unique and there is no telling what it is capable of.

“Where do you want to go next?”

“I want to see Daddy.”

“Daddy is sleeping and doesn’t walk the fade like we do.”

“Oh.  Who does?”

“I have a few friends who do.  Morrigan.  Solas.  Though I don’t know where either of them are right now.  I had a friend named Danielle who walked the fade, but we aren’t on speaking terms right now.”

“Why not?”

“She… we had a disagreement.”

“Oh.”

She smiles.  “I know what we could do.”

“What?”

“We could go find some wisps to play with.  They like being chased.”

“Ok!”  She feels him squeeze her hand tightly as she closes her eyes.  She imagines a meadow full of flowers.  She doesn’t know how to summon wisps, but the fade usually responds to the wants of a dreamer.  So, with any luck, this meadow will have some wisps.  Sure enough, when she opens her eyes she spots a few playful looking wisp floating around the meadow.  She motions for him to go ahead and he takes off in a burst of laughter.  She smiles and laughs right along with him as she watches him play.

***

She wakes more rested than she has in a long time.  She is in a fantastic mood and now can’t wait to get on with the day.  Shopping and picking out her son’s crib.  She dresses quickly and is about to bend to pick up her boots when there is a knock at the door.  She flings it open.  “Good morning!”

Dorian raises his eyebrow and then grins.  “Someone slept well last night.”

“You have no idea.  I spent the whole night in the fade.  It was… fantastic!”

He sighs and steps into the room.  “I’m relieved to hear that, darling.  I know I said I was worried, but you don’t know how concerned I’ve really been.  I was worried about how you were going to recharge your magic after all this.”

“I suppose it helps that I really haven’t been using it lately.  I’m aware of the challenges that present themselves when there is a lack of sleep.  Now come on!  Help me put these damn things on!  We’ve got a full day of shopping ahead of us!”  He laughs and scoops her boots off the ground.

“I’ve never seen you this excited about shopping.”

“I don’t think there’s anything I’m not going to be excited about today.  Last night was… I wish I had a better word for fantastic.  I learned a lot and had a blast.  I will never forget it as long as I live.”  Dorian makes her sit on the bed before putting on her boots.  “It was so fascinating!  I never expected the fade to be like that.”

“You almost sound like Solas.”

“Maybe I’m finally starting to get why he loves it so much.”

He pats her foot when he finishes lacing her boots and helps her stand.  She takes his hand and drags him towards the door.  “No time to waste!”

“I’m not sure I like you this happy.”

“Don’t worry.  I’m sure the high will fade as my ankles start to swell.”

They laugh and close the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED July 30, 2018


	26. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter. ~~I don't want to give too many details in this first notes section because I don't want to spoil anything, but it gets really dark this chapter. See the notes at the end if you want to see the warnings before reading.~~
> 
> I worked really hard to do this chapter justice. I am proud of the work I've done and I hope you guys feel the same way.
> 
> ++++++++++ danger zone (at least my best guess, and I just marked the beginning.)
> 
> THE FOLLOWING NOTE CONTAINS SPOILERS! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED. It is up to you to decide if trigger warnings or spoilers are more important, I suppose.
> 
> Upon further reflection (as of roughly July 25, 2018), I have decided to add these tags officially to the work. Now, I know that means spoilers, but the more I've been thinking, the more I think that a simple warning before the chapter and then tagging at the end isn't enough. Since this is a recurring theme for a while (much like her past sexual assault), I want it to be perfectly clear that I take this seriously and don't want to cause my readers undue pain. Unlike the chapter on her sexual assault in part one, I'm not entirely sure where the danger zone lies. Any feedback on that would be greatly appreciated so that I can mark it clearly as I did before.
> 
> TRIGGER TAGS: Miscarriage/Stillbirth. Death of a child/baby. Mourning/grieving.

Cullen’s office is a mess when he enters it after Shea and his siblings have left.  The backlog of reports and letters is appalling.  It will take at least a week to sort through them all and with more coming every day, he doesn’t see himself leaving his tower for quite some time.  He thought Rylen or Lysette were handling things when Josephine needed help.  That clearly isn’t the case.  He wants to blame one of them letting this happen.  What were the men doing while he was away?  He sits in his chair and lets out a frustrated huff of air.  He grabs a thick stack of papers and begins reading.  So, much for not being behind as the Ambassador had promised.

It only takes reading a few reports to realize he’s been had.  The first few reports on the first stack are legit.  After that however, the pages are blank.  It’s the same with every subsequent pile on his desk.  “Jim!  Get in here!”

Jim throws open one of the door to his office and salutes.  “You called, Commander?”

Cullen holds up a fist full of blank pages.  “What is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning of what, ser?”

“These are blank.  The vast majority of these are blank!”

Jim stumbles over his words, none of which are coherent.  Giggling from above him signals the culprit.  He sighs and shakes his head.  He should have known this was her.  Yet he knows it couldn’t have been done alone.  His scouts surely would have noticed.  She had to have help.  He narrows his eyes at Jim.  “Please tell me you didn’t help her with this.”

“No, ser!”  He steps a little closer to his angry looking Commander and whispers.  “But I know who did.”

“Who?”

“I was ordered to silence.  That should answer your question.”

Cullen hangs his head and chuckles.  It’s no wonder she wanted to keep him away from his office.  “I’m going to take my real work into the war room.  I expect this mess to be taken care of before I return.”  Jim salutes and rushes forward to grab a stack of the blank paper.  “And since you got him into this mess, it would be kind of you, Sera, to help him clear it away.  Maybe move it to Josephine’s desk.  Put officially looking seals on them.  You get the idea.”

She pops her head down from the opening above the ladder.  “Did you just give me permission to prank Lady Prissypants?”

“Permission?  I would do nothing of the sort.”  He flashes his half grin at her before headed out of his office.  He hears a crash behind him and the scampering of feet running up behind him as he walks.  “Something I can help you with?”

“So, that’s it?  You’re not mad anymore?”

“My fiancé helped you, correct?

“Well, yeah.  That’s the only time I’m allowed to prank you.”

He chuckles.  “Good to know.”

“She’ll be upset that she didn’t see how red you got.”

“You’ll have to draw her a picture.”

She punches him in the arm.  It doesn’t hurt, but definitely surprises him.  “I keep forgettin’ you’re all noble now.  Good to see you haven’t started steppin’ on the little people.”

He chuckles.  “No title will change the fact that I’m a commoner from Ferelden.  And it wasn’t Jim’s fault he was caught in the crossfire.”

“Just sayin’.  Don’t go punchin’ down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Gotta go.  I’ve got official documents to forge.”  Sera runs off and he shakes his head.  The elf scared him sometimes, but it is good to know that pranks were off limits unless Shea is directly involved.  He might actually trust the next piece of cake Sera brought him.  Keyword there is might.

The days pass with no real change.  Just the same routine day in and day out.  He sees Rylen packing in the courtyard one day and remembers his request for a replacement.  He rushes up to his office and flips through the list of his officers.  He doesn’t see anyone he trusts to replace him.  Could someone be promoted?  No, that would require more training that the younger officers wouldn’t have time to learn before leaving.  He calls Jim in and instructs him to go get Rylen.  If anyone has an idea of who should replace him it’s the man himself.  He could also bounce ideas off of him if he didn’t.

“Commander.  I was hoping you’d call me in.”

Cullen looks up at his old friend.  “I’m sorry, Rylen.  I haven’t been able to come up with any viable options.”

“Ah.  I figured as much.”

“I would like to approve your request.  Maker knows I could use my second back in Skyhold.  Lysette is better used training the men than running a keep.  She’s also not good at doing my paperwork the way I like it.”

Rylen smirks.  “You did train me to do reports your way, ser.”

He drums his fingers on the table.  An idea hits him like a ton of bricks.  “The Approach is still having trouble with Darkspawn, yes?”

“I think the Approach will always have trouble with Darkspawn.  Are you thinking about having a warden take over?”

“Know anyone good ones who would want the job?”

“Not any who are willing to leave the order.”

“What about someone who has already left the order?  I know a few of them defected after Adamant.”

“I could look into it… if you’d approve an extended furlough.”

Cullen chuckles.  “I wish I could, but Griffin Wing has been without its fearless leader for too long now.”

“Damn.  Well, can’t blame me for trying.”

“I’ll speak to Josephine.  Maybe she can help find someone.”

“I appreciate it.  And the next time I see a warden I’ll ask them about how they feel about a career change.”

“You do that.”

Rylen salutes and exits his office.  Cullen sits behind his desk readying some random report.  He figures they must have made it to Val Royeaux by now, even with the delay caused by the escaped slaver.  He assumes he should have heard from them.  Maybe they were just having too much fun to remember the man they left behind.

The door by his bookshelf bursts open and Jim holds out a letter.  “Sorry to barge in, Commander, but this is urgent.”

He takes the letter.  “Where is this from?”  The outside of the letter is plain save for his name in a familiar script.

“Seeker Cassandra sent it from Val Royeaux.  I have instructions, ser.”

Cullen looks up at the scout and sees the panic in his face.  He nods and Jim leaves his office, slamming the door behind him.   He takes a deep breath before pulling the letter from the envelope.

_Cullen,_

_Before I get into the purpose of this letter, I need you to give me your word that you will read it to the end before you react.  I am not there to hold you to your word, but I know you well enough by now to know that if you say you will, you’ll do it whether I am there or not.  Please, for your own sake, read to the end._

_Do I have your word?  Good._

_Now, by the time you finish reading this, everything will be ready for you as I know what your reaction will be.  Or least I think I do._

_Shea is ill.  We don’t know exactly what happened or why, but she collapsed in one of the shops and has been unconscious since then._

_Her pupils are dilated and her eyes dart rapidly behind her eyelids.  She grows paler by the hour and her pulse is racing.  She appears to be having some sort of nightmare, but she is still as a board.  Rigid even.  We have healers and her midwife attending her.  No one knows what is wrong with her.  We are doing everything we can, but nothing helps._

_Dorian and Vivienne have a few theories.  I was informed that Dorian has been having to cast a sleeping spell on her so that she can sleep more than a couple hours of a night.  He thinks that because of this she has been unable to recharge her magic as she normal does and this is her body’s way to coping.  Though he also mentioned she had a normal full night’s rest last night.  Vivienne doesn’t agree with that exactly, but she does think it is related.  She thinks that her connection to the fade has been blocked by something and that because she hasn’t slept normally that she hasn’t had access since her sleeping troubles began.  One night doesn’t prove the problem is solved.  She believes her body gave out due to exhaustion and the slow degradation of her magic.  They both agree on one thing.  They believe that she is now stuck in the fade.  Since they aren’t dreamers, and there doesn’t appear to be a single one in Val Royeaux, we have no way to know for sure._

_I won’t sugar coat it.  She is dying and there is nothing we can do.  We are monitoring her, giving her lyrium, and we are keeping a close eye on the baby. If we can’t figure out how to help her, then a choice must be made.  None of these choices are good ones I’m afraid._

_Ann, the midwife, fears for your child.  It seems to be suffering right along with its mother.  At just over 32 weeks, she thinks she might be able to save the child, but it isn’t likely that Shea would survive the process.  And even then, it is still possible to lose the baby after the fact._

_If given the option, we may have to decide who to save.  Mother or child.  I know what I would say, but I am not her lover.  I am not the father of her child.  I am not her family.  I don’t know what she would want.  I don’t know what you would want.  We are still holding out hope that we can save them both, but it doesn’t look good._

_I’m so sorry that I have to drop this on you after everything you’ve been through and are still going through.  Cullen, we need you.  Shea needs you._

_By now your horse and provisions should be waiting at the gate.  Leliana has securing the fastest ship and it will be waiting for you in Jadar.  It is a small vessel, but she assures me that it is the fastest she has.  There isn’t space to store your horse, so one of your men will be waiting to take it from you when you arrive.  I will send any updates on her condition to Jadar.  If there isn’t any change, I won’t write you._

_I hate to ask this of you, my friend, but before you leave Skyhold, please send me a letter as to how we should proceed if the worst should happen while we’re waiting for you to arrive.  Who should we… focus our efforts on?  It pains me to write these words.  I will pray for her every moment I can, as I know that is what you would do.  May the Maker and Andraste watch over them both._

_~Cassandra_

 

Cullen sits staring at the page.  The words hit him like the avalanche that buried her so long ago.  His body is completely frozen.  This is it.  That is what his feeling was leading towards.  There is no doubt in his mind.  His heart pounds loudly in his ears and it is his only sign that he hasn’t keeled over.  _No.  This can’t… not after…_ He clasps his hands together and presses them against his forehead.  He squeezes his eyes closed and prays.

“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm.  I shall endure.”

He is telling himself to be strong.  He can’t fall apart now.  His family needs him.  Shea needs him.  He will only let himself fall into that abyss again if he knows for certain she is gone and not a moment sooner.  He slams his fists on his desk.  He snatches a piece of parchment from the stack and grips his quill.  He dips the tip in the ink and writes.

_Cassandra,_

 

He pauses as he observes the shaky way he wrote her name.  He’s not ok, but he has to be.  “She is not dead.  Not yet.  She is ill, nothing more.  Pull it together.”  The ink drips on the page before he can write again.

 

_You saw me after Haven.  Before we knew she survived the avalanche.  What do you think my answer to that question is?_

He stares at the words that have appeared before him.  Could he actually say it?  Explicitly condemn his own child to death for his own selfish need for her?  Sign the death sentence of an innocent life?  His head throbs and the pressure behind his eyes builds.  He pinches the bridge of his nose and clinches his jaw.  “You can’t fall apart now.  Not yet.”

 

_Maker help me.  I can’t write the words you are asking me to write.  I hope this is answer enough._

_~Cullen_

 

He pushes back from his desk and grabs the paper as he rushes towards the door.  He curses himself for taking the time to gather himself.  He should be on the road already.  He should be flying to her side.  But his mind and heart are screaming.  His feet move of their own accord down the stairs.  Jim stands next to his horse.  He shoves the paper into the scout’s chest.  “Send that to Cassandra.”

“I will use the fastest raven we have.”

He stops with his hand on the reigns of his horse.  He looks up towards their tower.  He spots her circling around the top.  He snatches the letter from Jim and runs up the stairs towards the throne room.  He ignores the looks people give has he runs full speed through them.  He bursts through their door, not stopping to close it behind him.  He shouts the bird’s name as he climbs the stairs two or three at a time.  She swoops in through the open window.  He quickly folds and rolls the page.  “Take that to Cassandra as fast as you can.”

He knows the bird is intelligent, but when she doesn’t bow her head for a scratch, he knows that she is smarter than he ever realized.  She doesn’t wait for him to slip the letter into the tube on her leg.  She claps down on it with her beak and flies through the small rift she creates for herself.  All without stopping.  Cassandra’s words drift into his mind as the rift closes.  “They believe that she is now stuck in the fade.”  He rushes towards her desk and begins opening the drawers and digging through them.  He frantically searches for the only way he knows to help her.  He sees a few of her private hidden letters, but ignores them.  He goes to her wardrobe.  He does his best to ignore the sight of her clothes.  He digs around for the box that contains the item he wants.  He punches the wooden door when he doesn’t find it.  “Where is that blasted potion?!”

He closes his eyes and tries to think back to the last time he remembers her using it.  The night she killed his demon.  She had some of her armor on.  He rushes towards the armor stand and riffles through the pouches on her belt.  All of them are empty save one.  He sighs with relief when he finds the bottle containing the thick potion.  He wonders where she stashed the others bottles, but pushes the thought aside.  He would only have one shot at this so he had better make it count.  He places the bottle in his pocket and rushes down the stairs.  He nearly collides with Josephine.

“Maker’s breath!  I’m sorry.”

She grips his arms to hold her balance.  “I saw you running.  Is everything…”  She sees the wild look in his eye.  “Is she?”

“Not yet.”

She moves out of his way.  “Go!”

He rushes down the stairs, through the throne room, and down the stairs into the courtyard.  He doesn’t stop running until he reaches his horse.  He pauses just for a moment before mounting.  Jim moves to stand beside the horse.  “The ship is waiting in Jadar. The letter, ser?”

“Don’t worry about that.  I sent it myself.  Send a message to be delivered directly in the hands of Queen Danielle.  Tell her I need to speak with her in the fade.  She will know what I mean.  If she has left Denerim, then hand it to King Alistair.  And no one else.”

“Anything else, Commander?”

“No.”  He spurs his horse and flies out of the gates and across the bridge.  The keep slows him some, but as soon as he clears the entrance at the bottom he takes off at full speed.  The tears flow freely from his eyes.  Tears he knew would come but is grateful that they waited until he was out of Skyhold.  He begs the Maker and his horse to fly, to make it to Jadar, to make it to Val Royeaux.  She needs him now more than ever and he prays that he makes it to her side before something bad happens.

He rides until his horse can go no further.  He stops by a stream and ties the horse off.  He paces along it.  He should eat.  He should sleep.  Yet he can’t.  His mind races so fast as his horse.   He wishes dragons could be tamed or that griffins still lived so that he could fly to her that much faster.  If he had the Anchor instead of her, he could walk right into the Fade and out the other side, like Sky.  He remembers the potion in his pocket.  He grabs the bedroll from the back of his horse and rolls it out on the ground.  He lays down on it.  He takes a few deep breaths.  He remembers that he has to drink it slowly or it won’t work.  So he does.  He drinks it a mouthful at a time and fighting to keep it down.  He lays back as soon as it’s down and closes his eyes.  He wills it to kick in fast.  He has never wanted to be in the fade so desperately in his entire life.

When his eyes open, he is surrounded by dripping rocks.  The fade never looks welcoming to him, but right now, he is grateful it worked.  “Danielle!  Danielle, where are you?!”  He charges forward looking for the Warden Queen of Ferelden.  He isn’t entirely sure she has received his message or if she’d even come, but he has to try something.  “Danielle!”

“Cullen!  There you are.  I got your message.”  She looks just like she did when he last saw her in the flesh, only older.  Her blonde hair is pulled back at the temples and her blue and silver warden armor shines like new.

“You have to help her.”

“Help her?  Help who?”

“Shea.  They think she’s trapped in the fade.”

She shakes her head.  “Cullen, I would have heard about that if she were.  The spirits speak about her constantly.”  He stumbles over his words as he tells her what Cassandra wrote him.  She sighs and puts her hands on her hips.  “Maker.  I wish I knew what to do.  If she is stuck here, I’m not sure what I can do.”

“Find her.  Help wake her up.”

“It’s not that easy, Cullen.  I’m not anywhere close to Val Royeaux.  I’m not even in Ferelden anymore.  It was hard enough to find you.”

He growls and throws his hands in the air.  “This is your fault.  You and that dimwitted husband of yours.”

“Hey now!  I get that you are upset but this is not our fault.”

“If you hadn’t forced her to act, hadn’t rushed to her close those rifts and rush off to Val Royeaux to resign, she wouldn’t be in this mess.  She’d be home, at Skyhold, where she belongs.  Fixing the mess that is Southern Thedas.”

“Whatever is happening to her, it is not our doing.  We wish her no harm.”

He runs his hands through his hair.  “Maker’s breath.  I’m lost.  I don’t know what to do.”

“I will tell Alistair to back down.  Make them wait, but that won’t help her.  I don’t know what will.  If she is stuck here, then I will do what I can to find her.  To free her.  But I can’t make promises.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask.”

She steps forward and touches his arm.  “Stay strong, old friend.  I’ve got work to do.”

“Please send word if you find anything.”

“I will.  Now, wake up.”

He sits up and sees that the sun is starting to rise.  He jumps up off the ground and rolls up his bedroll.  He examines his horse and decides that she looks rested.  He mounts her and spurs her to run at full speed.  His meeting with Danielle didn’t give him much hope, but there is at least someone in the fade trying to help her.

When he finally gets to Jadar, there is no word from Cassandra.  He convinces himself that no news is good news.  He passes his horse off to the solider waiting by the ship and quickly boards it.  The ship wastes no time leaving the port and heading for open water.

***

She lays in the grass watching the clouds drift by.  Her son is lying beside her shaping them.  She doesn’t remember falling asleep.  In fact, the last thing she remembers is looking at cribs.  So, if that’s the case, then why the hell is she in the fade?  She looks over at the curly haired child resting at her side.  He looks up at her and smiles.  It still seems a little fishy to her that she and her son are just suddenly in the fade, but that little boy’s smile makes her forget all of her troubles.

The little boy giggles softly as he shapes the clouds above.  She watches him while he works.  His focus reminds her of his father.  Enjoying the work even if it takes a lot out of him.  Like training troops.  Like father like son.  She looks up at sky and watches the clouds.  It dawns on her that he has made the Breach.  The white clouds look just like the swirling Breach over Haven.  She looks over at him and he has a serious look on his face.

“Why did you make that?”

He looks up at her.  “Cause of that.”  He points at her hand.  The mark is bright.  She doesn’t remember it being this bright in the fade.  The light from the mark seems to drift upwards.  The Breach made of clouds seems to suck up the light and morph into something that looks almost exactly like the real one.  “That lady had it wrong.”

“What lady?”

“Your friend.  The witch of the wilds.”

“Morrigan?”

He nods.  “They said it from the beginning.  It’s killing you.”

She sits up and looks down at the Anchor.  “But Solas stopped it.  The Breach is gone.  There’s no reason I would still be…”  It flares and her son hops up off the ground.  She can’t feel the pain that normally accompanies it.  She looks at her son.  His skin is lit by the green light.  The ocean blue eyes they share slowly change colors.  The blue is replaced by green.  “I don’t understand.”

He touches her cheek to wipe a tear away that she didn’t know was there.  “If the mark is still killing you, what do you think it is doing to me?”

She shakes her head.  “No.  No.  No.  It’s flared before.  Multiple times and you’ve been fine.  Healthy.  Perfect.  She said you’d be safe.”

“She was wrong.”

“No.  I refuse to believe this.  This is a nightmare or something.”

He looks up at the sky.  “You have to go now.”

She grabs his hands.  “Go?  Go where?”

“You have to wake up now.”

“Me?  What about you?  Shouldn’t you be waking up too?”

“This was always meant to happen.  I was never meant to exist outside of here.”

Tears stream down her face.  She cups the child’s face.  “I don’t understand.  You are my son.”

He shakes his head.  “I am simply a gift from a friend.  A way to cope with what comes next.”

Her heart pounds rapidly in her chest and she finds it hard to breathe.  “I don’t want whatever comes next.  I want this.  I want you.”

“Like I said.  I was never meant to exist outside of the fade.”  The flash of light blinds her for a moment.  Once it’s gone the child before her has grown into a young man.  He is kneeling in front of her.  His eyes are still bright green, the color of her mark, but his hair is still a mass of blonde curls on his head.  His features are a mix between her own and his father’s.  He runs his fingers down the scar on her face as Cullen would to calm her.  “I am but a figment of the fade.  The dreamlike manifestation of what I could have been.  He tried to spare you this pain early on.  But you fought him and then hid from him.    This was the only thing he could think to do to help you move on.  The Anchor is going to kill me.  It has been slowly doing that since day one.”

She shakes her head.  She can’t wrap her mind around this idea.  That this isn’t really her son.  That some unknown friend has made this vision for her.  That someone has been working this whole time to spare her this pain she can feel coming.  And despite this, she can see the truth in his face.  Hear it in the baritone of his voice.  She looks into his glowing eyes.  “Who is this friend?”

“I cannot say.  It’s best that you don’t know.  This whole experience is going to be bad enough.”

“What did you mean by he tried to spare me early on?”

“The hooded figure that hunts you in the fade.  That’s him.  He was trying to take me from you before you could get attached.  Before you had the chance to love me.  Before I was ever real to you.  But you fought him.  Resisted his attempts.  Then you managed to escape and he had to come up with other ways.  As the time grew closer, he wanted to give you this chance.  To see me.  To spend some time with me.  So that when I die today, you will have something not so painful to hold onto.  It’s why he cut you off from the fade for so long.  So that when the time came, you’d pass out and have this final moment.”

“I don’t want a final moment.  You can’t die.  I don’t want you to.”

He smiles his father’s half grin at her.  “I know, Mother.  But this was always meant to happen.  Be grateful you had this time.”

He stands and helps her off the ground.  She feels lighter than she has in months.  Looking down she sees that her bump is gone.  He turns to walk away and she grabs his sleeve.  “Please don’t go.”

He smiles weakly at her.  “You know, the worst part is that no one will have any idea why I died.  Expect you now, I suppose.  And I suppose in hindsight this wasn’t the best idea.  Coming to you like this.  I was never meant to look like this.  The Anchor would always be my end and the end of any child you might have.  You should know that before trying again.”

She presses her hand over her heart.  No children while she has the mark.  The mark which is permanent.  He kisses the back of her hand.  “It’s time for you to wake now.  And I’m truly sorry for the pain this has caused you.  I may not have be destined to be born, but you should know that I did love you.”  Darkness surrounds her and she feels his hand slip away.  She reaches for it, searches the darkness.  She feels the world around her shift and the ground falls away with her along with it. 

++++++++++

She sits up and screams.  The pain that rips through her is both physical and emotional.  The mark is flaring violently.  Hands attempt to push her back down on the bed.  She vaguely hears voices shouting at one another.  One is demanding to stay by her side, the other trying to force him to leave, another is praying loudly.  But she can’t process anything but the pain.  Her hands grip the sheets as she rides out the pain.  Then it fades and she falls onto her back.  A damp cloth presses against her forehead and soft mumbling fills her ears.  She can’t hear what he says, it sounds more like cooing than anything.  Her body hurts.  Particularly her back and abdomen.  She slowly opens her eyes, blinking away sweat and tears.  Dorian’s is the first face she sees, then next is Ann, who shooing people out of the room.

“Out!  Everyone out!  She needs privacy!  Out!”

Dorian dabs her face with the cloth and smiles weakly at her.  “Welcome back, darling.”

Ann closes the door with a slam and hurries toward him.  “You too!  Out!”

He sneers at her before looking back to Shea.  “I won’t leave unless you want me to.”

“The birthing room is no place for a man.”

Shea looks over at Ann and then back at Dorian.  “The baby’s coming?”  He nods.  “But it’s too soon.”

Ann steps in and smooths the hair back on her head.  “Yes, dear.  But there is no stopping it now.”

The mark flares and she cries out.  Dorian takes her right hand and squeezes.  “Breathe, darling.  It’ll end soon.”  She struggles to take steady breaths as she rides out the pain in her hand and stomach.  After a few moments, the pain subsides.  She slumps back on the bed.  “The mark flares every time you have a contraction.  They are coming faster now.”

Ann shuffles to the end of the bed and looks between her legs.  She bites her lip and looks at Dorian.  “We’re going to need a healer in here during.”

Shea tries to sit up and Dorian holds her down.  Her chest tightens.  “Is something wrong?”

Dorian cups her jaw.  “Don’t worry your little head about it, darling.  You just focus on breathing.”

“I need her now.”

Dorian nods and dabs sweat off her forehead.  “I’ll be right back.”

She looks down the bed at Ann and then up at him.  “Maybe she’s right.  Maybe you should stay outside with the others.”  He looks a little hurt by the request, but she’s knows something they don’t and when it breaks her, she doesn’t want witnesses.  She touches his cheek and smiles.  “I’ll be ok.”

“You better be.”  He kisses her forehead and leaves the room.  Ann comes to stand by her head.  She dabs the wet cloth on Shea’s forehead.  Shea can see it in the dwarf’s eyes.  She already knows and is reluctant to tell her.  She closes her eyes and lets the tears flow freely.

“Bless your heart.  You know don’t you?”  Shea nods.  “I’m so sorry.  I wish I could have done more.  Acted sooner.”  Shea tries to hold in the sobs that threaten to rip out of her chest.  “I know you are heartbroken, but I need you to stay with me.  We are not out of the woods yet.  There is work to do.”

A wizened female mage enters the room and quietly closes the door behind her.  “How long do we have Ann?”

Ann pats Shea hand and turns to the mage.  “Not long.  The babe is already starting to crown.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“The usual in these cases.”

The mage looks at Shea.  Her eyes are full of sympathy.  “I see.  I’ll be ready.”  Shea stares up at the ceiling.  She is not prepared for this.  She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to do this.  The mage sits down on the bed beside her and takes her right hand.  Ann positions Shea legs and looks up at her.

“It’s time dear.  On the next one, I’m going to need you to push.”

 _This is all too much.  Why does nothing ever go right in my life?  This is going to crush me.  How could I possibly go on after this?  And what about Cullen?  Maker, he’s not even here.  He has no idea what’s happening._ She can’t stop the sob that escapes her.  She is certain the people outside that door heard her.  She bites her lip and tries to choke her sorrow back down.  She tries to disconnect herself from what is happening to her.  To shut Shea away and let the Inquisitor deal with this.  Her mark flares and pain shoots through her.

Ann pats her knees.  “Alright.  Deep breath and push.”

***

The silence in the room is deafening.  Well, silence is being a little generous.  The only sounds in the quiet room are her sobs.  She sits propped up with pillows behind her, her feet flat on the bed with her knees pulled up, with a tiny bundle on her lap.  She can’t bring herself to look at her child.  The tiny thing that died before he was ever born.  No one spoke after the child was delivered.  Ann cleaned him off and wrapped him up tight.  The healer worked on Shea to make sure she was healthy before leaving the room to inform those waiting outside what had happened.  Shea asked Ann to leave her alone with the baby and not allow anyone in until she gave the word.  It been hours now. 

“This is all my fault.  I should have known the mark would do this.  If it was going to kill me, how did such a tiny thing have any chance?”  Her hand hovers above the bundle before she quickly covers her face.  Sobs rip through her chest.  Someone knocks softly, but they don’t enter.  After a few moments, they knock again.  She screams through her sobs.  “Go away!”

She waits a few moments before wiping the tears and snot from her face.  She eyes the bundle in her lap and takes a deep breath.  She pinches the corner and pulls the blanket off his tiny face.  She bites her lip and lets out a stuttering breath.  He looks so peaceful as if he were sleeping.  Short soft blonde curls sprinkle his head.  She gently runs her finger along his face.  Her heart hurts.  She never expected this.  She feels as if a part of her has died.  How is she going to live with the fact that the mark killed this child and would kill any child she attempted to have?  How is she going to be able to go on?

She can’t bear to look at him anymore.  She covers him back up and calls for Ann.  The dwarf comes in.  “Take him.”

“Are you sure?  You can have all the time you need to…”

“I said take him.”

Ann lifts the baby from her lap.  The dwarf gently cradles the bundle as if it were made of glass.  “I’d like to be alone.”  She nods and leaves the room with the baby in her arms.  Shea waits until her hears the door click closed.  She waves her hand through the air sending magic at the door.  She seals it closed and lets herself fall apart all over again.  She grabs a pillow from behind her back and hugs it.  She buries her face in it and screams. The Anchor has ruined her life.  She will never recover from this.  She will never have the family he so desperately wants.  How could he love her when she can’t give him something so important?  Any other time, she’d try to reign this in.  He loved her before she agreed to have children, he would love her still when he learns she can’t.  But she doesn’t have the strength today.  She doesn’t have the strength for anything today.  She doesn’t imagine herself having the strength to do anything ever again.

***

 Cullen knows something is wrong the moment he disembarks from the ship.  Rosalie and Dorian are waiting for him.  His sister’s face is red and she has obviously been crying.  Dorian is a little more put together, but he is still affected by something.  His whole body freezes in place and his heart leaps into his throat.  He focuses on Dorian’s face in an attempt to read him.  He knows him better after all.  Seeing that the mage isn’t actively crying and that he seems to be able to hold himself to together, Cullen takes it as a sign that something bad has happened, but that she is still alive.

He urges himself forward.  As he approaches, Rosalie starts to fall to pieces.  He holds out his arm and his sister launches forward.  She wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his mantle.  He rubs her back as she cries.  Dorian shakes his head and motions for him to follow.  Something must be wrong if Dorian can’t speak.  Maybe she is dead after all.  He shakes his head.  No.  He won’t fall into that hole until he knows for sure.

“Could you tell me where we’re going at least?”

Dorian nods.  “Branson’s house.  We’re set up there.”

“And I’m assuming someone will tell me what’s going on when we get there?”  Dorian covers his mouth with his hand and nods.  He smooths out his moustache and leads them to the throughway.  They get on a small boat and it takes them further into Val Royeaux.  It’s the fact that neither of them are saying much that bothers him most.  The suspense of what’s coming, of what’s happened, of what’s waiting for him makes him want to scream.  He has barely slept and his mind has been running through every scenario and not knowing what he’s walking into is driving him crazy.

The boat pulls up to a dock at the back of row of houses.  Cassandra is standing with her arms folded across her chest at the smallest of the homes.  Which isn’t saying much as they are all quite large.  Branson has selected a house with easy access to the street and the throughway, right on the corner of the row, and within sight of the Grand Cathedral.  Dorian helps Rosalie out of the boat and he follows behind them.  Rosalie looks back at him over her shoulder as they disappear into the house.  Cassandra nods to him.  Her expression is somber, but not grave.  He relaxes some at the sight of her.

“You made good time.”

“I got here as fast as possible.  I’m assuming there’s been a development.”

She nods.  “She woke just after you left Jadar.  At least based on the scout who responded to my letter.”

“So whatever has my sister so upset happened four days ago?”

“Yes.”

“Is she…?”

“No!  Maker no!  She’s fine.  On the mend, but there are a few things you need to know before you see her.  I have been tasked with being the one to tell you everything that has happened since I wrote you.  Primarily because I’ve known you the longest.  Would you care to sit?”

He nods.  “If you think I might need to.”

She leads him into the small courtyard and sits on a bench.  He sits on the bench across from her.  She leans forward to rest her forearms on her knees and rubs her hands together.  “We still don’t know what caused her to fall ill in the… shop she was in.  And we did fear the worst.  Before I even got your response, Ann insisted that it was dangerous to wait.  For the both of them.  She considered acting without your consent, but Rosalie and Dorian interfered.  They blocked her access, causing a huge scene, but then your raven arrived and Ann backed down.  She focused on Shea, but continued to monitor the baby.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Cassandra.  I don’t need every little detail.  Just tell me what happened.”

The seeker takes a deep breath and lets it out in a huff.  “She started to come out of her sleep when the contractions started.  With each one, the mark flared.  And then four days ago, she woke up and gave birth.”

He missed it.  The birth of his child.  But it was early.  At least a month maybe two.  Could it survive that early?  He notices that she isn’t looking at him now.  “What?  What is it?”

“We don’t know what happened.”

“You said that.”

“But whatever it was… your… son… did not survive.”

He inhales sharply.  _My son?  I had a son?  And he…_   “Maker’s breath.”  He tries to blink the tears from his eyes, but he can’t stop then from spilling over.  “Was it after…?”

She shakes her head.  “No.  Ann said it happened while she was sleeping, before she even went into labor.  No one knows why.  We haven’t had services for him yet.  We were waiting for you to arrive.”

He nods.  “And Shea?  How is she?”

“Physically, she’s recovering.  But she kept herself locked in her room for days.  She allowed no one inside.  She wouldn’t eat, we don’t know if she’s slept, but we could hear her crying through the door.”

“I should go to her.” He stands and heads towards the house. 

Cassandra grabs his arm and stops him.  “I’m not done.  Please sit.”

He looks down at her.  She looks a little angry now.  So, it wasn’t the news of his son that she is tasked to tell him, but this last piece of the puzzle.  She is tasked with this because she is angry.  Angry at what?  During this sad event, what could she possibly be mad about?  He sits back down and his brows knit together.  “I’m not sure how much more my heart can take, Cassandra.”

She closes her eyes for a moment and clasps her hands together.  She presses her joined hands against her lips to steady herself.  “This was her choice.  None of us knew what she was planning until it was too late.”

“What has she done?”

His mind races to answer that question while he waits for Cassandra to answer.  What could make the seeker so angry that she has to struggle to keep herself calm?  “Now, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing in her shoes, but I feel she should have spoken to you about it first.  There are things that need to be done now, and none of us are sure how to proceed.”  Cullen’s patience is on the brink of snapping.  This beating around the bush is becoming exhausting.  He takes a few deep breaths while she gathers herself in an attempt to reign it in.  “She allowed one person to enter her room since the baby was born.  Cole.”

He hangs his head and rubs his temples.  Cole.  He knows the boy is just trying to help her however he could, but there is only one thing he could think of that Cassandra would think he needed to be consulted about.  “How much does she remember?”

“It’s hard to say.  She’s been so weak from lack of sleep and food.  Dorian has been making her sleep and trying to work on erasing all signs she was ever pregnant physically.  Vivienne is helping as well.  We’ve kept this whole affair in house, but no one knows that she doesn’t remember.  From what Cole said before he left…”

“He left?”

She nods.  “Yes.  He felt guilty for helping her that way as soon as he did it.  He can’t make the whole world forget.   He’s only slightly more than human after all.  That’s the obstacle I was talking about.  From what he told us, she asked him to make her forget that she was ever pregnant.”

“Does she remember anything from the past eight months?”

“I don’t know.  And I’m not entirely sure how to go about finding out.”

He runs his fingers through his hair and groans.  “As if grieving the loss of my child isn’t enough, now I have to do that alone.  And I have to figure out what she remembers from the past eight months.  And I have to figure out how we’re going to deal with the rest of Thedas with this whole pregnancy thing.”  He growls and stands up.  He paces the small courtyard.  “And now I’m a noble for no fucking reason as there is no child to legitimize.”

“Not to place judgement here.  But is that really something you should be concerned with right now?”

He stops pacing and glares at her.  “I’m not exactly thinking clearly right now, Cassandra.  My child is dead.  My future wife decided to forget he ever existed, leaving me to grieve alone.  We’ve talked about this whole memory thing in the past.  We both agreed that it is better to remember the horrors we’ve lived through.”

“This isn’t that same as being torture or watching the Divine die.  She carried a life inside of her for eight months only to lose him before it was time.  You can’t know what that feels like.”

He sighs and squeezes his head with both hands.  “Andraste preserve me.  This is a lot to take in.  I essentially have to grieve my son, bury him, and get past it all before going in to see the woman I love.  Then I have to live with the memory of this loss for the rest of my life, while she goes about her life as if nothing ever happened.  How am I supposed to live with that?”

“I can’t answer that for you.  The only thing I can compare this to is what she experienced at the Conclave.  You may have witnessed her memories in the fade, but she lived it.  No one knows exactly what that was like but her.  The same goes for your torture.  No one knows what you had to endure but you.  Whatever she was feeling in those days before she had Cole make her forget, must have been something she didn’t think she could live with.  It’s sad for the rest of us, but she lived it.  And in a way, so have you.  I think you are right, that you need to say goodbye to your son.  Name him.  Send him to be by the Maker’s side.  Take time to mourn him.  Then go be with her.  She is still in pain and we haven’t figured out what to say to her.  You might be angry now, but I have a feeling that will fade.  I am angry for you, if that matters.  She should have discussed it with you first.  Explained herself.  Helped you come up with a plan on how to handle this news.  We haven’t been able to discuss this with Josephine yet, but Leliana has let her know what happened.  If anyone knows what to do it’s her.  I know there is nothing I can say to make this any easier for you.”

He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head.  “I don’t think you can.  But I think I need to see her first.  Then maybe I can figure out how to… deal with… this.”

She stands up and nods.  “Come with me then.”

He follows her into the house.  He feels like he’s going crazy.  Maybe it’s the lack of sleep making it harder for him to process these turn of events.  Maybe it’s not knowing what the proper way to react to this is.  Yes, he is heartbroken that his son died before he was born.  It is even worse that she had to go through that alone.  But if she had just waited a few days, he would have been there.  He could have held her and they could mourn together.  But it was done and as far as he understood, when Cole makes you forget, it is permanent.  He could be mad about it all he wanted, but there is no reversing it.  If this had been the nightmare demon who had taken it from her, then there was a chance that it could resurface one day.  But Cole wasn’t a creature of fear.  It was an act of compassion and he wouldn’t have made her forget if he thought she could have gotten past it on her own.

Rosalie is sitting on a couch in the sitting room.  He runs his hand along her shoulders as he passes.  She smiles weakly at him through red and puffy eyes.  She takes his hand.  “How are you holding up?”

“Not sure yet.  I’m going to see her now.”

“Do you want me to send word to Mia?”

He shakes his head.  “I’ll write her later.  She should hear it from me.”

She nods.  “I’m here if you need me.”

He squeezes her hand and continues to follow Cassandra.  When they get to the door to the room she is in, they are greeted by Vivienne and Dorian.  Dorian pats Cullen on the shoulder.  The talkative mage can’t think of anything to say at the moment.  Everything he can think of fails to adequately express his sympathies.  Vivienne simply bows her head slightly.  This is just one more thing to look forward to handling on his own. They couldn’t show their feelings to her.  It would not doubt confuse and anger her.  He shakes his head and motions towards the door.  “Is she awake?”  The women move away as Cullen addresses him.

Dorian shakes his head.  “She’s been in and out all day.”

“And she’s out of the woods?  Nothing life threatening to worry about?”

“Not that we can tell.  She was very weak the first day and then more so when she refused to eat or drink anything.  She’s on the mend.”

“What has she been told about her condition?”

Dorian crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall.  “We don’t know what to say now.  Ann said that besides starving herself, the… after effects of the… complications are uh… normal.  Other than having a difficult delivery, she is fine.  At least physically.”

“How is she emotionally now?”

Dorian sighs.  “You should have seen her before… well, maybe not.  It was hard to see.  Now, she’s just a bit confused.  Not sure where she is or why she’s here.  She is vaguely aware of this being your brother’s house.”

He nods.  “I will probably need a drink later.”

“I’ve got wine in my room.”

“You always do.”

Dorian reaches for the door handle.  “Do try to be patient with her.  She doesn’t know she’s done anything to make you angry at her yet.”

“I’ll try.”  Dorian opens the door for him and he steps inside.  The room isn’t large, but it is finely decorated.  The fabrics are expensive, but it is surprisingly simple for Orlais.  She is curled up on her side with her back to the door when he enters.  He assumes that she is asleep.  Her auburn locks are a matted, tangled mess.  What he can see of her skin is pale, more so than normal.  He gently presses the door closed as to not disturb her just yet.  He slowly walks towards the bed, careful that his boots and armor don’t clank.  If she is resting, he doesn’t want to wake her.  And if she isn’t, then this might be his one chance to observe her when she thinks no one is looking.

As he rounds the bed, he takes in her frame now that she isn’t pregnant anymore.  Her muscles have lessened from lack of use, something he can help with if she asks, and she’s not as thin around the middle as she used to be, but that will fade in time as the effects of her pregnancy fade.  Her arms cling to a pillow and her face is buried in it.  As he stands there watching her in silence, he hears her whimper.  Her breath stutters and her grip tightens on the pillow.  His heart shatters.  It hadn’t really hit him until now.  She is alone, just as he is.  He can’t imagine anything worse than losing a child you have come to love over the course of 8 months only to lose him at the last second.  She no doubt blames herself.  And seeing her cry now, he realizes something very important.

He rushes forward and sits beside her on the bed.  He places his hand to the side of her head and she inhales sharply.  She peeks out from behind the pillow.  His angry as completely melted away.  Compassion and sorrow fill his golden eyes in equal measure.  She expected him to be mad.  She wants him to be mad, furious that she made herself forget because she knows how they feel about it.  The thing he fears more than his nightmares and his tortured past, is the fear of forgetting them completely.  The fear of losing his mind to lyrium and losing the man he had fought so hard to become.  She has a similar fear.  Their time together made her realize that forgetting your pain only hurts you in the long run.  You have to face the pain, face your problems head on, and come out the other side stronger for it.

Yet she needs him to be mad at her for doing the very thing they agreed to never do.  Forget.  Because she knows he won’t be mad at her for killing their child.  He would tell her she isn’t to blame.  They could not have known it would happen.  It is not uncommon for first time mother’s to lose their children.  It is not uncommon for new born babies to die.  There are factors beyond their control that took their son from them.  She knows he will say these things and she knows he would be right, but she also knows it is ultimately her fault he died.  And it would be her fault when the rest of the children they wanted to have died too.  She can’t bear that.  So, she wants him to be so mad at her that he might leave her.  Then she wouldn’t have to break the news to him that she is essentially barren.

But looking up at him now, she knows she has failed and that realization breaks her heart further.  She buries her face back in the pillow and fights to hold in her sobs.  She shakes beside him as she fights the wave of emotion rushing through her.  He yanks off his gloves and brushes her hair behind her ear.  He presses his warm fingers against her jaw below her ear.  “I…”  He doesn’t know what he should say.  He feels that his words will fall short.   He wishes her could see her face, as tear stained as it might be.  “I’m here.”   Her body stills at the sound of his voice.  He can hear her sniffling so he knows she is still crying, but she seems to calm some.

He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.  He should have realized right away that she wouldn’t make herself forget.  He should have realized it was all some sort of ploy right away.  But he was blinded by fear and sorrow.  He quickly starts unbuckling his armor.  The sound of metal hitting the floor fills the air.  Once he is down to his sleeveless undershirt and pants, he places his hand on her side.  He leans forward and presses his lips to her ear.  “Look at me, love.”

She shakes her head and hugs the pillow tighter.  He runs his hand up and down her side trying to soothe her, to comfort her.  He can’t help but think that if he had been with her, she wouldn’t be acting this way.  He bends forward and rest his forehead on her shoulder.  He fights to stay strong for her, fights to hold in the tears that match hers.  She needs his strength right now.  He could fall apart later.  Which is easier said than done since the grief he feels is far stronger than almost anything he has ever felt.  Stronger than watching his templar brothers die at Kinloch, more than watching the Chantry in Haven explode, and more than watching the Temple of Sacred Ashes explode.  The only time he can recall feeling worse was watching that mountain fall on her.  He reminds himself that she is here, she is alive and on the mend.  He is confident that her pain is far worse than his as she carried their child, she knew him more than Cullen ever would.  His heart breaks for her.  He presses his lips to her shoulder.   He wishes he knew how to help her.  The guilt he feels for not being there for her becomes too much to hold in.  “Maker.  Shea, I’m so sorry.  I should have been here.  I should have been faster.  I should have come with you.”

She feels his warm tears fall onto the bare skin of her shoulder.  Her tears flow with renewed interest.  She can hear the guilt and sorrow in his voice.  She wants to comfort him, but she feels as if she might fall apart, that her heart would shatter completely if she releases the pillow.  She also can’t wrap her mind around why he would feel guilty.  It is her fault.  She should have realized.  She should have known.  She tries to prevent her sobs from breaking free, knowing it would only make him feel worse.

He hears her mumble something.  He raises his head and brushes her hair back.  He still can’t see her face since she still has it buried in the pillow.  “What was that, love?”

“This is all my fault.”

He shakes his head violently and drags his thumb down the scar on her arm.  “No, my love.  None of this is your fault.”

“I should have known.”

“How could you know this would happen?”

She turns her head slightly to look up at him.  Seeing his face with tears streaming down it and the multitude of emotions on it, she snaps.  She releases the pillow and throws herself at him.  He hugs her tightly as she buries her face in his chest.  She warps her arms around his waist and squeezes him tightly.  He notes how weak her grip on him is.   He feels her tears soaking through his shirt.  He presses his lips to the top of her head and hugs her even tighter.  They hold each other and cry for a long while.  Eventually she calms enough to look up at him.  He wipes the tears from her face and kisses her forehead.  “Oh, Cullen.”

“Shh.  You don’t have to speak.”

She shakes her head and looks down.  “Have they told you…?”  He nods.  “I thought you’d be mad.”

“I was.  Until I saw you.  I knew right away that you didn’t.”

“I just… I thought it would be easier.  I wouldn’t have to talk about it, because how can you talk about something you don’t remember?”

He nods.  “I understand.  But you have me.  I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

She bites her lip and tears well up in her eyes.  He cups her jaw and strokes her cheek with his thumb.  “It’s my fault.”

“Please stop saying that.  This isn’t your fault.  You did nothing wrong.”

“It… it was the mark.”

He sighs and presses his lips to her forehead.  He instantly knows what she’s saying.  It’s all she needs to say.  “Oh, Shea.  That still isn’t your fault.  Again, we had no way of knowing.  Especially when we were told everything would be fine.”

“Someone knew.”

“What do you mean?”

“The thing that was hunting me in the fade…”  She closes her eyes and struggles to take a deep breath.  “It was… trying to spare us this.  A friend sent it to me because whomever it was knew that the mark would kill our…”

He hugs her to his chest and rests his chin on the top of her head.  “Love.  How were you supposed to know that?  If what you say is true, this friend should have addressed it in a more direct way.  And I’ll say this again.  This is not your fault.”

She grips the back of his shirt and hugs him.  “It feels that way.”

“If it’s your fault, then it is mine too.  I was the one who convinced you to have children to begin with.”

She shakes her head and looks up at him.  “No.  It’s not…”

He presses his forehead to hers.  “Neither of us are at fault.”

“But you know what this means?”

He nods and sighs.  “I do.  But we don’t have to think or talk about that right now.”

“I’m so sorry, Cullen.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”  He kisses her forehead.  He knows deep down that he only needs her.  He is a little disappointed, it is true, but children aren’t important as long as she is there.  It isn’t a discussion they need to have now though.  They still need to privately recover from the loss of their son.  Once they have mourned, then they could talk about it.  “Shea.  I love you.  Nothing will ever change that.”

“Even if we can’t…”

“I’m lucky enough to have to you.  You are all I need.  Now, enough talk.”  She snuggles under his chin and curls up against him.  She sniffs to clear her nose and his scent fills her nose.  She chuckles weakly and before turning her face away.  “What?”

“You stink.”

His chest rumbles with quiet laughter.  “Well, I didn’t exactly take the time to bathe.”

“Maybe you should.”

He kisses the top of her head.  “When is the last time you’ve bathed?”

She shrugs.  “The days have sort of blended together.”

He nods.  “Then I’ll get everything ready.  Then we’ll bathe, get something to eat, and get some rest.  Tomorrow is not going to be pleasant.”

She nods.  “Alright.  Though…”

“What?”

“I’m not sure I want you to… see me yet.”

He sighs.  “As you wish.  But you should know by now that I will continue to love you not matter what.”

“I know that.  As I hope you know that I feel the same way.  It’s just… I have some… physical reminders right now and I would rather you not see me like this.  At least… not yet.”

He kisses the top of her head.  “You should know that I have a hard time not looking at you, but I will try.”  She loosens her grip on him and lays back down on the bed.  He places the pillow back in her arms and caresses her face.  “I’ll be back shortly.”  He leans down and lightly kisses her lips.  He can see the sadness in her eyes as she turns her head to settle fully back onto the bed.  He runs his finger through her tangled hair.  His fingers curl around to cup the back of her head.  She pats his leg and hugs the pillow.  “I won’t be long, love.”

She nods and he slides off the bed.  He slowly moves towards the door.  He touches the handle and looks back at her.  She is looking at her marked hand, tracing the edges with her fingers.  He wishes he had never convinced her to have children, wishes they’d never had the discussion.  He runs his hands through his hair and turns the knob.  Dorian and Cassandra are still standing outside the room.  Cullen clears his throat to make sure his voice is clear.  “Is there somewhere we can clean up?”

Dorian nods.  “I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”  Cullen walks beside Dorian down the hall.  His bare feet pad against the cold marble floor.  He sticks his hands in his pockets as they walk.  “How is she?”

Cullen kicks himself for not figuring out exactly what to say.  How would she feel if she didn’t remember?  “She’s still a little weak.  I think a nice warm bath will do her good.”

“While you do that I’ll get some food prepared for you two.  When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

Cullen shrugs.  “I’m not entirely sure.  Just some rations during the trip.”  The urge to tell Dorian the truth regarding Cole bubbles in his throat.  He wants someone outside of Shea to help him with how to handle this, but maybe Dorian isn’t the best choice.  He can think of two people who know how to keep a secret.  Of those two, one of them had the connections to help him handle the world at large.  That is the hardest part of her decision to forget.  Once they have put their child to rest, Cullen would need to launch into a mission on how best to handle the news throughout Thedas and on how to make it so no one ever mentioned this tragedy to her.  Dorian pauses in front of a door and turns the nob.

“It’s in here.  I would say I could get your brother’s staff to prepare the bath, but he left so quickly that he didn’t have time to hire anyone.”

“Does he know yet?”

“He works for Leliana.  I’m sure he knows some parts at least.  Rosie has opted to let you inform the rest of your family.  Though if you want my opinion, I just think she’s having a hard time with all this.  Particularly learning about Cole’s abilities in this way.”

Cullen nods.  “Once I’ve tended to Shea, I’ll go see my sister.”

Dorian places his hand on Cullen’s bicep.  He squeezes gently.  “You should get some rest as well.  I’ll be in later to treat her pain.  If she needs me that is.”

“I’ll let you know.  Thank you.”  Dorian pats his arm and turns into the bathroom.  “She likes it very warm.  And if you have some embrium…”

“Don’t worry.  I’ll take care of it.”  Cullen nods and pads back towards her room.  He can’t deny how tired he is, but he feels he still has a job to do.  To be the comforting fiancé instead of the grieving father.  Though he doesn’t know if he can actually call himself a father if the baby was never born.  He rubs his face as he walks.  He needs real sleep.  He can feel the fogginess in his brain.  He’s not even entirely sure that this whole thing actually feels real to him yet.  Cassandra isn’t in the hallway anymore when he reaches the door.  He gently pushes the door open and Shea is sitting up on the bed with her feet hanging off the edge.  She looks up when she notices the door open.

“Hey.”  She reaches behind her and pulls the blanket to cover the bed.  “I… uh… will need someone to change the bedding.”

He nods.  “I’ll let someone know.”

“I’m sure they already know.  I just haven’t… allowed them in here since…”

“I understand.”  He leaves the door open and walks towards her.  “Can you stand or should I carry you?”

She swings her feet and looks down at her toes.  She can’t deny how weak she feels, largely due to lack of food and water.  The pain isn’t as bad as it was, but the biggest probably standing for her is that he will see the condition of her body.  “I think you should probably carry me.”  He nods and closes the distance between them.  She wraps her arms around his neck when he bends down.  He slips his arm behind her knees and one behind her back.  He picks her up with ease.  He hears the small hiss of pain but choices not to acknowledge it.  There is not a single person in the halls on the way to the bathroom.  The bath steams and the relaxing smell of embrium and elfroot fills the air.  Dorian is also gone.  Towels and a pile of fresh clothes sits on the counter and a tray of soaps sits on the edge of the tub.  He sets her down with her feet on the floor.  She braces herself against him and then looks up at him.  “Turn around?”

“I can help you.”

“I can handle it.”

He nods.  He turns his back to her and begins removing the rest of his clothes.  She pulls the long flowing nightdress over her head, she can’t recall who gave it to her, and quickly balls it up.  There are stains on it that she would rather not see and would rather he not see.  She tosses it into the corner and the motion makes him look back over his shoulder.  Her back is to him.  He tries not to watch her climb into the tub, but the careful steps she takes makes him concerned that she might fall.  He catches a glimpse of the front of her as she carefully steps into the tub and lowers herself in.  He quickly faces forward so she doesn’t catch him.  He slowly unlaces his pants to gather his thoughts.  She still looks pregnant.  Her stomach isn’t as big as it had been, but her bump is clearly present.  He shouldn’t be surprised.  Giving birth isn’t magic.  It had taken 8 months for her bump to grow.  It wil take some time for it to shrink.  That must be what Dorian was talking about when he talked about getting rid of the signs that she was ever pregnant.  He swallows and nods to himself as he removes the last of his clothes.  It would be hard to explain to a woman who doesn’t remember being pregnant why she looked that way.

He turns to face her and her eyes drink him in.  His eyes narrow and he chuckles softly.  “That’s not quite fair.”

She shrugs.  “I have a hard time not looking either.”

He steps into the water and mentally complains about the temperature of it.  It is far too hot for his liking.  He feels her magic activate and he touches her hand.  “No.  It’s fine.  I’ll get used to it.”

She nods and releases her magic.  She grabs a piece of soap off the tray and begins to lather up her hands as he settles in.  She knows he’s at a loss as to how to help her.  If asked, she’s not sure if there is anything he can do except for be there and hold her.  Then on the other hand she has no idea how to help him.  She is so consumed by her own pain that she has no idea how to help him with this.  They bathe in silence.  The sloshing of water the only sound in the small room.  The silence is emotionally charged and not the comfortable silence that they normally fall into. 

After quickly cleaning himself, he looks up at her.  She isn’t looking at him as she slowly scrubs her skin. He hopes that this doesn’t push her away.  He doesn’t know why it would, but he suddenly feels a tightening in his chest that it might be a possibility.  She hears the sharp intake of breath from him and looks up.  A familiar look sits on his face.  She scoots forward and places her hands on his knees.  “Cullen.”

He looks at her and sighs.  “I’m alright.”

“Cullen.  I’m not going anywhere.”

He smirks weakly.  “I know.  I just… I never expected…”

“Sweetheart.  You don’t have to be strong for me.  And you don’t have to worry that this is going to drive me away from you.”

“How…?”

She squeezes his knees and smiles weakly.  “I know you.  I know your fears.  We’ve talked at length about them.  You still have a hard time believing that I chose you.”

He places his hands on top of hers.  “You’re right.  I do.  I just worry what this will ultimately do to us.”

“I… it’s too soon to say for sure, but whatever it is, we’ll be in it together.  We share this.  And I hope we can recover”

“As do I.  It will take time.”

She nods.  “Should we… discuss…?”  She covers her mouth and closes her eyes.

He pulls her close to him and rests his forehead on hers.  “Not yet.  One step at a time.”  He feels her brows furrow and he sits back.  She looks a little angry.  “What did I say?”

“I’m not made of glass.  I’m grieving and heartbroken, but I can make it through this.  We need to… name… our son.  We need to send him to the Maker.  And we need to go back to Skyhold.  The world will not rest while we mourn.  In private.  Because I refuse to be treated with pity because of this.  It’s why I had Cole tell everyone I didn’t remember.  So that I can get back to my normal life a little faster.”

“And I’m fine with that.  I understand it and I get it.  I was thinking we could talk to Leliana.  She’s well-connected and can keep a secret.  She could help us figure out what to tell everyone to make sure your plan works.  Regardless of what happens, I’m with you.”

She sighs.  “I’m sorry for being harsh.  I just… this is so hard.”

Tears well up in his eyes.  “That my dear is an understatement.  And it may take time, but we’ll…”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get over this.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.  But one day, we’ll be able to talk about this without being in so much pain.”

They lapse back into silence, which is slightly more comfortable now that they’ve verbally expressed some of their feelings.  They don’t talk much more for the rest of the night.  He does his best to give her privacy as she changes into a new nightdress.  He assists her as she walks back to their room.  They eat the food that is waiting for them without saying a word.  They are both lost in their own grief and worry for the other.  They both hope that with time this will become a distant painful memory.  They both think that this might not be the worst thing that has happened to them in their lives, but it hurts in a way that they can’t name or even know how to deal with.

Shea pulls the covers back on the bed to find that someone has changed the bedding, something she is extremely grateful for.  She curls back into the same spot she was in before, curled up and hugging her pillow.   Cullen removes his shirt and slips in behind her.  He is exhausted, but doesn’t know how well either of them will be able to sleep with so much on their minds.  He lays on his back and stares at the ceiling.  He laces his fingers together and rests them on his stomach.  He wonders if he should hold her.  He wonders if she would even want him to.  He rolls his head to the side and studies her back.  Her breathing is steady and her still damp hair covers her face.  He reaches over and brushes the hair behind her ear.  She shifts slightly under his touch, her head turns ever so slightly toward him.  He places his hand on her side and runs it down to rest on her hip.  She takes the hand and pulls it towards her.  He rolls onto his side and presses himself against her.  Contouring his body to cradle hers.  She toys with his fingers and traces the lines in his palms.  He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at her.  She sighs and turns her head towards him.

“Have you… seen him yet?”  He shakes his head.  “Why not?”

“I came to you first.”

She nods and looks back at his palm.  “Can you sleep?”

He chuckles softly.  “I know I need to, but I don’t think I can.”

“Do you… want to…?”

He shakes his head.  “Tomorrow.  Unless… you feel ready to.”

She hugs his hand to her chest.  “I don’t know.  I feel… braver with you here.”

“If you feel up to it, then we can.  It’s fairly late now.  So, either everyone is asleep or keeping their distance.”  He actually doesn’t know if he’s ready to see his son.  The unborn child that died before it could even be called his first born.  But she is suffering worse than he is at this loss, so if she feels strong enough to see him, then he can man up and do the same.  She hugs his arm and strokes the blonde hairs on his arms as she contemplates her response.  He can’t get a good read on how she’s feeling exactly because he can’t see her eyes, but he might compare her to a tiny bird.  Her heart drums in her chest and she is timid, fragile even.  She could snap at any moment and all he would be able to do was hold her. 

She rolls onto her back and looks into his golden eyes.  She still clutches his hand to her chest and then reaches up to presses her fingers between is eyebrows.  “You don’t need to worry, Cullen.  I’m… I’ll be ok.  Eventually.”  Her fingers trail down the side of his face and then down her favorite scar.  He studies her face, searching for an indicator if what she just said is true.  She scratches the stubble growing on his chin and it rasps against her nails.  “Well…?  Do you?”

He turns his hand to hold the one that is clutching his.  He pulls her hand up to kiss the back of it.  He presses their joined hands against his chest and simply nods.  They move together to rise off the bed.  Their hands stay connected as she leads him off the bed.  He grabs his shirt as they move and they hands separate just long enough for him to put it on.  She leads him through the halls.  Their bare feet pad softly against the cold marble floors.  He wonders for a moment how she knows where to go if she hasn’t left the room for days.  Then he sees Ann sittings in a chair in a darkened hallway.  The dwarf stands up quickly and trudges towards them.  She presses her hand on Shea’s forehead and nods.  “She seem to be feeling better.”

Shea hugs his arm and rests her cheek against his bicep.  “Cullen’s been taking care of me since he arrived a few hours ago.”

She nods.  “And he knows you remember?”  The couple nods.  “Arrangements have been made.  We’re just waiting on word from you.”  Shea bites her lip and looks up at Cullen.

“Thank you, Ann.  We… still need to discuss that.”

“Of course.”  The wrinkled dwarf motions to the door she was sitting next to.  “That’s the door you’re looking for.  I’ve made sure no one has entered since…”  She waves her waves in the air.  “Bah!  Anyway.  Take your time.”  She trudges past them down the hall.  Cullen looks down at the shaking woman beside him.

“Are you sure about this?”  She simply nods and then steps forward.  She reaches for the nod and gently pushes the door open.  A bassinet sits in the middle of the otherwise empty room.  The lights in the room are dim save of a small cone of light that illuminates the little crib.  Shea takes a slow, deep breath to steady herself.  She knows by the pressure building in her hand that he is having a hard time with this.  Harder than his external features let on.  She sandwiches his hand between hers and rubs the back of it.  He takes a slow deep breath and steps into the room.  She presses the door closed behind them.  The room in freezing.  Which is understandable considering the condition of the occupant.  She looks up at him and his gaze is fixed on the vision ahead of them.  She kisses the back of his hand.  Her hunger to see the babe’s face again hitting with a suddenly urgency and strength that she can’t resist.  She releases his hand and closes the distance.

Sheer white fabric drapes over the top of the bassinet, providing a peaceful covering to the mound inside.  White fabric has been wrapped around him and his tiny body looks as if it could be sleeping.  She gently lifts the sheer fabric and runs her finger delicately down his cheek.  Her lip quivers but the tears stay in her eyes.  Now that he is clean and dry, the soft blonde eyelashes and soft blonde curls stand out that much more.  She looks over her shoulder at the man frozen in darkness.  Something inside her falls into place.  Some piece of her heart that had snapped off a few days ago.  She might be in mourning, but she knows looking at him, that she can recover.  Seeing her child again had helped heal her just a little bit.  She reaches her hand towards Cullen.

He takes a deep, steadying breath before walking slowly towards her.  He takes her hand and his eyes meet hers.  Her ocean blue eyes gaze lovingly at him.  Something has shifted since they entered the room and he can’t put his finger on what that might be.  She looks away from him and back down into the bassinet.  He can’t tear his eyes from her face because he isn’t not ready to see him.  He knows that now, but it’s too late.  She looks back at him and sees the fear in his eyes.  She touches his face.  “Cullen.  You don’t…”

He shakes his head.  He knows he can’t run away now.  Especially if they will be performing the rites tomorrow.  This might be his only shot.  He presses her hand harder into his face.  He turns his head to kiss her palm.  He presses his nose against her wrist and inhales.  The scent of her fills his nose and he instantly feels calmer.  He closes his eyes and releases her hand.  She snakes it around his waist as he turns toward the basket.  He feels her kiss his shoulder.  It seems to him that their roles have flipped.  She is being a rock for him while he trembles.  He opens his eyes slowly.  His heart feels like it is about to burst.  “Maker’s breath.  Shea.  He’s… beautiful.  And so tiny.”  It’s not the reaction he expected to have.  He expected to fall apart.  He expected to fall to his knees, wailing and sobbing.  But none of that even occurs to him.  His son.  The tiny little child taken far too soon.  The sprinkling of little blonde curls grabs his attention first.  His hand moves of its own accord to touch them.  He feels her smile against his arm.

“You can hold him… if you want.”  He looks over at her and then back down at where is his hand rests next to his son.  His hand is so large compared to him.  She reaches into the bassinet with both hands and gently lifts their son’s body.  She cradles him in her arms and steps closer to Cullen.  “You can’t hurt him, my love.”  He nods.  He holds out his hands she gently sets their son in his hands.  The weight barely registers to him even though he is cradling the baby with both hands.  Cullen finds he can’t speak.  He has no words to express how he feels or what he should say to his stillborn son.  He simply looks down at the impossibly small baby and sighs.  This is the closest he will come to holding his own child.  And though that makes him incredibly sad, he knows that they will make it through this and that given time they will be able to recover from this loss.  He bends forward and gently kisses his cold forehead.

Shea touches his face and wipes away a tear.  He didn’t even realize that he had started crying.  The corner of his lip twitches upward and he looks up at her.  He loves her so much.  He thanks the Maker yet again for sending her to him.  “I love you.”

She flashes him a closed lip smile and brings her hand to rest on his cheek.  “I love you too.”  She looks down at their son and back up at him.  “Should we… name him?”

He nods.  “I’m… at a loss for what his name should be.”

“Didn’t you have some ideas before…?”

He chuckles.  “Honestly, no.  I was secretly hoping I’d be wrong about the due date so that I wouldn’t have to come up with any.”

Her laughter bounces off the walls.  It is the first time she has laughed since falling ill.  “I was hoping the same thing.”

Cullen looks down at the child.  “What color were his eyes?”

She shakes her head.  “I couldn’t bear to look.  But in the fade they were blue.”  He sighs and looks up at her.  She looks down at her marked hand and sighs.  “You know.  If I never got this thing, he would still be alive.”

“Yes, but the world as we know it wouldn’t exist.  Corypheus would have destroyed everything and we would likely have never met.”

She nods.  “Then maybe… we can name him for someone who died at the Conclave since that’s the whole reason he didn’t survive?  Or is that too morbid?”

“You got the mark when you picked up that orb.”

“Right.  And I ran in because I heard Justinia calling out.”

He smirks and nods.  “Justin.”

She inhales sharply and her eyes fill with tears.  She looks down at their son and gently touches the top of his head.  “Justin Rutherford.”

Silence falls over them once more.  They gaze down at their son.  Content with his name and spending this precious moment with him.  As the night begins to shift into day, they finally return him to the bassinet.  Having finally mourned together, they both feel as if one day they can look back on this as distant memory.  They hope that with time and after they have laid Justin to rest, that they might one day be able to talk about what she experienced in the fade with him, or the representation of him, without sinking into a pit of despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already in the works so I don't leave you with this for too long.
> 
> UPDATED July 30, 2018


	27. Two of a Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take this time to thank everyone for their patience in getting this chapter. Writer's block is a bitch. As always, comments are welcomed and appreciated. Follow me on Tumblr (bevans87) as I post updates on the status of my fics on there. Love you all! Enjoy!

In the months that follow, she has become accustomed to waking in their bed alone.  The sun is streaming in from the open windows, but the curtains are drawn closed around the bed to block the light.  She knows he does this on purpose and despite her protests, he does it anyway.  It’s not the extra hours of sleep or his absence that annoys her, but the lack of activity she knows will be waiting for her once she finally leaves her bed.  She sits up and pulls back to curtain on the bed.  She groans and falls back onto her pillow, because sure enough her desk is completely void of reports or papers of any kind.  At this rate, she is going to have to issue him a direct order to stop doing her job for her.  She looks towards the open window and sighs.  Maybe it is time to get back out in the world.  Stop moping around or playing host to dignitaries and go close some rifts.

Thinking of rifts makes her look at the Anchor.  It has been quiet for quite some time now.  In fact, it hasn’t flared since Justin died.  She sighs silently wishing things had played out differently.  Looking at the mark now, she can see that the edges aren’t inflamed for once.  No doubt if she went out and started using it again that red border would return.  She glances over at his neatly made side of the bed.  She shakes her head and reaches for his pillow.  He must have gotten up extremely early this morning as the pillow is cold.  She stares at it for a little while trying to decide what the hell she is going to do today since all of her work appears to be done already.

The sound of boots on the stairs draws her focus.  She quickly closes the curtain of the bed and flops onto her stomach.  She buries her face in her pillow and closes her eyes.  The rich smell of smoked sausage drifts towards her.  Her stomach growls loudly and she hears the deep rumble of his chuckle.  The curtain opens on his side of the bed and she feels his weight indent the mattress.  His warm fingers brush the hair from her face.  “I know you are awake.”  She opens one eye and smiles.

“What gave me away?”  Her favorite smirk breaks across his face.  He points to his pillow.  She chuckles and rolls onto her side.  “Well, I can’t help it if I miss you when you aren’t here.”  He bends down and plants a kiss on her lips.  She hums when she tastes the sweetness of honey on his lips.  “Since you’ve already eaten, I’m assuming that tray is for me.”

He chuckles.  “Indeed it is.”  She sits up and scoots to lean against the head board.  He sets the tray on her lap and removes the lid.  Smoked sausage, bits of cheese, strawberries drizzled with honey, and a hunk a steaming bread sit on the plate in front of her.  He smiles watching her grab the bread first as she always does.  She inhales deeply before taking a bite.  She licks her lips and looks at him.

“Is that cinnamon?”

“It is.”

She smiles brightly.  “And to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

His smile lights up his face.  His eyes crinkle as a result.  “You have no idea what day it is do you?”

She shrugs and pops a piece of cheese into her mouth.  “No idea, because someone keeps doing all my work.”

“Then my plan worked.  Excellent.”

She tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes.  “Plan?  What plan?”

He smirks and motions towards her plate.  “Eat up.  While it’s fresh.”

“Cullen… you know how I feel about…”

“Surprises.  I know.  Just… humor me?”

She sighs and nods.  He plants a long kiss at her temple before sliding off the bed.  “Going somewhere?”

“I’m not going far.  I’m just getting your bath ready.”

“Cullen.  I…”

He presses his finger against her lips.  “I’m aware you still don’t want me to see you.  I’m not suggesting that.  Stop worrying.  I know you well enough by now to know what the boundaries are.  I know that you trust me with your life… and your heart… so please, just go with it.”

She smirks and presses her lips against his finger.  His hand shifts to caress her face.  “Fine.  You win.”

He smiles brightly and leans forward to kiss her.  He is careful not to disturb the tray in her lap as he softly presses his lips to hers.  She leans into the kiss, pressing their mouths more firmly together.  She can feel him responding to the increased intensity.  His arm snakes around her while his other hand move to cup the back of her head.  She chuckles softly knowing that it’s been a long time since they’ve been intimate and his willpower is slowly breaking.  She feels a little guilty at not feeling ready yet.  She has recovered enough physically, but her stomach still shows some fading signs of her pregnancy.  The insecurity she feels around that is what makes her push gently against his chest.  His grip relaxes on her and he rests his forehead on hers.

“I’m sorry.  I got a little carried away.”

She reaches up to cup his face with both hands.  “No need to apologize.  I did sort of encourage you.”

He turns his head to kiss her palm before sliding off the bed.  Her hands linger for just a little while as he creates distance between them.  He ducks into the bathroom and she returns her attention to her breakfast.  Though a glance back towards the window lets her know that this is more of a late lunch than a breakfast.  She hears him preparing the bath as she eats her meal.  She wonders what day it is and why he’s doing these things for her.  Then it occurs to her that he isn’t wearing his armor.  She looks towards the armor racks in the corner and sure enough his armor, his sword, and his shield all sit in their spot.

She looks back towards the bathroom and tries to recall what he is wearing.  If she had to venture a guess, it would be leather pants, his casual boots, and either one of his comfortable cream colored shirts or the more tailor shirts Dorian had gotten him to start wearing on his birthday.  He comes out of the bathroom and her first guess proves to be true.  The sleeves on his cream colored shirt are rolled up to his elbows and the neck is nearly completely closed.  Only the very top of his chest is visible.  The shirt is tucked in all the way around in an attempt to make the ensemble look more professional.

“No armor today?”

“I’m taking the day off.  No Inquisition work for me.  Plus, I don’t have anything work related to do that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“And I assume the same applies for me?”

He smiles and nods.  “Again.  All a part of my plan.”  He grabs her face and kisses her forehead.  “Now.  Eat and bathe.  Dorian will be up later.”

She wants to question him as to why Dorian would be coming to their quarters, but he is already bounding down the stairs before she gets the chance.  She quickly finishes her food and gets out of bed.  Her nightdress flows around her as she rushes to her desk.  She groans when every single piece of paper has been removed.  There is no inkwell or quill.  The desk is almost completely bare.  Which means there is currently no way for her to figure out the date until she leaves her room.  She goes to stand on the balcony that over looks Skyhold.  The normally buzzing courtyard is completely still.  Her brows furrow and she nibbles her bottom lip.  What does that blasted templar have planned?  She chuckles as his voice rings in her head correcting her curse.  Former templar.  She sighs and resigns herself to just go along with whatever it is he has planned.  He seems excited by whatever it is and that he actually managed to surprise her.  She turns from the balcony and goes into the bathroom to bathe as instructed.

***

“Alright, everyone!  Coast is clear!”  The courtyard bursts with activity at Bull’s call.  Merchants, visiting dignitaries, cooks, servants, and many others hurry around carrying food, tables, chairs, and various supplies for decorating.  Casks are rolled out from behind the tavern and the Chargers begin arguing how best to get them up the stairs and into the throne room.  Josephine stands on the outdoor landing with her board in hand directing where people are supposed to go.  Cullen comes jogging down the stairs and stops beside her.

“So far so good.  She is suspicious as I knew she would be, but she hasn’t caught on yet.”

“And you were right about her coming to the balcony to look into the courtyard.”  She scribbles on the paper on her board.  “So far we’re on schedule.  Everything should be ready when Dorian finally lets her leave her room.  I must say Commander that this is the last thing I expected you to do for her birthday.”

He chuckles.  “I should remind you that it is a holiday as well.”

“Yes.  But I would have figured we’d save the big party for the anniversary of Corypheus’s defeat.”

He smirks at her.  “What?  Don’t think you can throw another banquet in that time?”

“It’s not that. This party seems very… Orlesian for your liking.”

He shrugs.  “We are technically in Orlais, are we not?”

“True.”

“Have our special guests arrived yet?”

She laughs.  “Which ones?”

“My family primarily.  I’m sure our other guests will make themselves known as soon as they arrive.”

Josephine chuckles.  “You mean Varric and Hawke, and anyone coming with them from Kirkwall.”

He nods.  “I’m hoping that dwarf doesn’t decide to bring all of his friends.  Maker knows I’ve seen enough of them.”

“I think Hawke is still in Weisshaupt.”

He grins.  “Then maybe he won’t show.”  She shakes her head and chuckles.  He heads back inside and towards his next stop, Dagna.

***

Shea sits in front of the mirror combing out her wet hair in front of the mirror.  Her body is wrapped in a silk robe that Dorian had given her a long time ago. It’s been so long since she’s worn it that she can’t remember the last time.  Running her comb through her auburn locks, she notices how long it has gotten.  She gets that itch to cut it, but remembers that she told Cullen she would grow it back out.

“Is it time for a trim?”  She nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of his voice.  She spins in her chair and he laughs.  “I didn’t mean to startle you, darling.  The Commander said you’d be expecting me.”

She lets her air out in a huff.  “Yes.  I was expecting you, Dorian.  I just assumed you’d knock first.”  He moves into the room and hangs something covered in black fabric on her wardrobe.  “What the heck is that for?”

“I still can’t believe his plan worked.” He smiles at her.  “You will see soon enough.  Now face forward, I’ve got work to do.”

“Work?”

“When is the last time you’ve gotten dressed up?”

She chuckles.  “Your definition or mine?”  She shakes her head and holds up her hand.  “You know what.  Don’t answer that.  You know as well as I do that I haven’t been dolled up since the Winter Palace.”

“Then this is long overdue.  I’m so glad he came up with this idea!”

“Yes, but will I?”

He places his hands on her shoulders and rest his chin on top of her head.  He smiles at her in the mirror.  “Oh, I think so.  And if not, fake it.  He’s been working on this for a long time now.”

“Working on what exactly?”

Dorian squeezes her shoulders and smiles.  “You’ll see soon enough.”

“You both know how I feel about surprises.”

“Yes, but he has a lot to compete with after what you did for him on his…”  Dorian bites his lip and starts working on her hair.  She grabs his hands and turns around to look at him. 

“What was that?”  He tries to get her to face forward so he can continue doing her hair but she squeezes his hands.  “Dorian.”

“I told him I was not the best choice for this.”  He sighs and pulls his hands from hers.  He reaches under the black cloth and produces a black lace mask with silver threaded through it to make it shimmer.  White gems, which could easily be diamonds, accent parts of the mask, under the eyes, along the brow, and along the nose.  “Your dress matches.  But at least save some of the surprise for later.”  She holds out her hand and he lays the delicate looking mask in her palm.  She turns her back to him and sets it down on the counter.

“He’s throwing me a party?  A masque?  That’s a little… Orlesian for him.”

Dorian chuckles.  “According to him, he was aiming for a Marcher tradition.”

“Marcher tradition?  How is this mask a Marcher… oh no.  He didn’t, didn’t he?”

He nods.  “He thought you deserved to have a birthday to remember, like you gave to him.”

“A threesome is not that same as a ball.”

He laughs loudly.  “You gave him more than just me, darling.  You gave him his family and a good memory from his time in Ferelden.”  He stokes his mustache for a few moments.  She wonders if she said too much.  Dorian still believes she doesn’t remember.  People are still trying to figure out the effect that had.  He simply nods as if having sorting something out in his mind.  “Now then.  I’ve got two people to get ready tonight so sit still.”

She sighs and looks down at the mask.  “This is going to be a romantic evening, isn’t it?”

Dorian fingers work her hair into tight twists.  “Is that a problem?”

“It’s… been a while.  And whatever happened to me in Val Royeaux has still left a mark.  A mark I’m not prepared to let him see yet.”

“Don’t worry, darling.  One more treatment should make you as good as new.”

She nods and stares down at the beautiful mask on the counter.  Her birthday was always over shadowed by All Soul’s Day.  Most of Thedas sees the day as a way to honor Andraste’s death and those who have died.  Those in Northern Thedas usually have some sort of party.  Marchers have masquerades and balls with fancy dress.  It varied year to year what would be happening in her home.  Her birthday had been over shadowed by the war with Corypheus, but the holiday was still observed.  Seeing the somberness of the events, the pyres that burned for Andraste, people kneeling in silent prayer to the Maker for the loved ones they had lost, she wonders how the denizens of Skyhold feel about having a Marcher style ball on a day meant to be spent in reflection and prayer.  She’d have to take his word for it she supposed.  She is worried about how intimacy would be between them after their loss.  He hasn’t tried and she has tried to keep him from seeing her naked.  She is ashamed of the way she looks after, embarrassed the same way she was concerning her scars.  If Dorian is right, then all signs that her son ever existing will be erased.  It is a bittersweet feeling.

He works on her hair and makeup in silence.  He can tell that she is lost in her own mind.  He feels for her and is one of the few people who knows the truth.  No one had to tell him, he knows his best friend enough to know for certain that her loss still lives inside her.  But he knows she doesn’t want to talk about it which is why Cole said he made her forget.  It makes sense to him.  He’s not sure he’d be able to handle such a loss.  Not that he expected to have children especially not any that were biologically his.  He pats her shoulders to break her concentration.  She looks up at herself in the mirror.  Her hair flows down her back in gentle waves.  Her eyes are dark making her ocean blue irises stand out against the black.  Her lips are deep red.  Her lips twitches as she takes in the woman in the mirror.  She looks so much older than she had two years ago.  The soft cures of her face giving way to the sharper features of a battle hardened woman.  Her scar doesn’t bother her as much as it had before.  Just another one of her distinguishing features.

She stands and turns to face her mage friend.  “Thank you, Dorian.”

He shrugs.  “All in a day’s work.  Now, just need to treat you and get you dressed.”  He peeks his head out the door and looks at her.  “You may be waiting for a little bit for someone to come get you.  Promise you won’t look out the window.  Cullen is going to be mad enough that I spoiled the surprise.”

“I promise.”

“Now I need better light to heal you and… in order to make sure that you have completely recovered…”

She sighs.  “You need to see it.”

He nods.  She looks into his eyes and groans.  Something in his eyes tells her everything.  “You know don’t you?”

“That you never forgot?  Of course I do.  Darling, you are my best friend and I can read you like a book.  Need I remind you that I have seen your body in worse conditions…?”

“As well as in better condition.”

He smirks.  “Yes.  I should also remind you that only happened because he was involved.”

She shakes her head.  “You can claim that all you want, but I know how you feel about me.”

“As true as that may be, you are my friend before anything else.”

She looks over at the mirror.  “Can you give me a moment?  We have time right?  Let me… get used to the idea.”

“Take your time.  I’m not trying to pressure you.  Honestly… I could attempt to heal you as I have been, without seeing your stomach.  But I can’t guarantee…”

“Could you please?  Or show me what to do in case it doesn’t?”

He nods and steps towards her.  His magic surges and his hands hover above her stomach.  She closes her eyes and feels his magic knit muscle and skin together, it feels like the results of working out for weeks or stitching together to deep cut.  Already without seeing the result she knows that any and all signs of her pregnancy are totally gone.  She already knows that the muscles she used to have are gone, which has more to do with being a mage than anything else.

He lets his magic fade and sits down on her couch.  She goes back to her mirror and drops the robe on the floor.  She is right.  Dorian is successful.  She feels a little sad and wistful that her bump is totally gone now, but it also feels like this chapter of her life is finally closed.  Maybe now she could let go of the anxiety she feels about letting the man she loves see her as she used to be.  She turns to her wardrobe and pulls out a pair of smalls and pulls them on.  She sticks her head out the door.  “Does this dress have a corset or do I need a band?”

He can hear the excited shift in her voice.  She might actually enjoy herself tonight and the idea of that makes him smile brightly.  “Corset.”  He pulls himself up off the couch.  She covers her chest as best she can as he comes to join her.  He pulls the black cloth from the dress that covers it.  She rolls her eyes and chuckles.

“More lace?”

“Don’t look at me.  He picked it.”

The black lace of the dress lays onto top of silver fabric.  It looks a little somber for her tastes, but she assumes that’s because of holiday.  The corset is also made of black lace on top of silver even though it won’t be seen.  Dorian quickly ties it onto her.  The whole thing reminds her of putting on the green lace dress in Halamshiral when she was trying to make him jealous.  She steps into the dress and Dorian takes to the task of buttoning up the back.  The dress has tight long sleeves secured around her wrists and the neckline traces along her collarbone.  The black lace on her arms and chest is see through.  The silver and black hugs her curves to her waist before flaring out and flowing freely around her lower body.  She notices as she looks down at herself that lace is made the same way as her mask, with threads of silver running through the weave.  The silver satin lining caresses her legs as she shifts to inspect herself in the mirror.  Dorian holds up a pair of strappy black heels.  They look impossibly high and she hopes she remembers how to walk in them.  She allows him to slip them on her feet and he helps her balance.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

She laughs.  “You think so?  I hope I can walk in these.”

He raises an eyebrow and smirks.  “Walk?  Darling, I hope you can dance.”  She groans and lowers herself into her chair in front of the mirror.  “Do you want me to put that on now or come back?”

“Now is fine.  That way you can take the time to get yourself and Bull ready.”

“Oh I’ve already talked him into wearing a shirt and a mask.  I picked out a jacket so that he wouldn’t need help putting it on.”

She laughs.  “I’m sure he appreciates that.”

Dorian picks up the mask off the counter and ties it around her head.  He twists her hair around the ties to cover them.  This effectively pulls most of the hair from her face while still maintaining the free flowing waves that end at the middle of her back.  She loves the way she looks.  She looks strikingly beautiful.  And though you can tell who she is, she would fit in well with a masquerade.  Cullen clearly hadn’t planned this alone.  She stands and embraces her friend.  He returns her hug with enthusiasm.  “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.  Now, remember that you promised not to look out your window and wait for someone to come get you.”

“How long do I have to wait?”

Dorian looks over towards the window.  The sun is still fairly high in the sky, but she won’t have to wait long.  “Not long now.  Once the sun starts to set behind the mountains, you’ll be summoned.”

She nods.  “Well go get ready then.  I’ll see you down there.”

He kisses her cheek.  “Save a dance for me.”

“Absolutely.”  Dorian hurries down the stairs and she spends the next hour practicing to walk and dance in her heels.

The bell rings and she takes a deep breath.  She looks towards the window and sure enough the sun has started to sink behind the mountains.  She checks herself over in the mirror one last time before heading down the stairs.

When she steps into the throne room, the first thing she notices are the twinkling lights dancing along the high ceiling.  The braziers are lit, but most of the light is from these magical dancing lights.  Blue and silver banners line the walls and she knows they represent her family colors.  She makes a mental note that she and Cullen need to design his crest and colors for his new noble house.  The throne room is packed with people in masks and beautiful clothing.  The long dining tables are buzzing with people and covered in food.  The whole room is breathtaking.  She pulls her door closed behind her.  She slowly walks into the room.

Someone clears their throat to get her attention.  Cullen walks out behind her throne.  His mask looks a lot like hers.  Black lace with silver threads.  He is wearing a black formal jacket trimmed with silver and a silver sash.  His pants and boots are black leather.  She smiles brightly at him.  He bows to her and she curtsies back.  He flashes her a bashful smile.  “You look… gorgeous.”

“Thank you, ser.  You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He offers her is arm and she links hers with his.  “I hope you like this.”

“It’s a lovely surprise.”

He smiles brightly.  “This isn’t the only surprise I have planned, but it’s definitely the largest.”

He leads her through the crowd.  People wish her Happy Birthday as she passes.  She begins to notice that all of the people in the room are people she already knows.  All of her travelling companions are present.  Cole, Varric, Rainer, and Vivienne have all returned.  The Chargers are all dressed up and in masks.  She’s surprised to see that even Leliana has managed to get away from her busy schedule to attend.  They don’t get very far through the crowd before people start to chat with the pair.  She notices that he keeps looking around as if hoping to see someone.

Speaking to Varric lets her know that Hawke was invited, as well as the majority of their friends, but as far as he knows Hawke is in Weisshaupt and he is willing to put coin down that Fenris isn’t too far away.  With the business with Corypheus solved and Kirkwall well on the way to being rebuilt, there is talk of remodeling the Gallows, removing the cells, slave statues, and Meredith, and transforming it into the new Chantry since Circles were officially a thing of the past.  Though he informs her that rebuilding is still slow since there is still no Viscount.

Rainer is actually happy to see her.  He can only stay one night as he has more outreach to do, more apologizes to make, more people to help, but he seems to actually be in good spirits and happy to be back in Skyhold even for a night.

She notices that Cole is avoiding her a little bit.  She wants to thank him for the lie he told, knowing full well that the concept is still new and confusing to him.  But one glance at where his attention lies and she understands.  She doesn’t know why she hadn’t notice it before, but he seems to be very taken with a certain minstrel.  She smiles at him when he glances her way and he smiles back.  It’s all they need really.  He might be more human every day, but his extra senses are still pretty strong.

As they walk together, sampling the food and drink around the room, a man in blue and silver grabs her attention.  She is startled to see him so far from home.  Especially when there are still problems in his realm.  He heads straight for her when he spots her in the crowd.  “Dear sister!”  He stops before her and bows ever so slightly.  “Might I say you look stunning!  And Happy Birthday!”

She returns his gestures with a small curtsy, since bowing is out the question in her dress.  “Brandon.  I’m surprised to see you here.”

“When Bann Rutherford invited me to a masquerade to celebrate my only sister’s birth, how could I possibly miss it?  Besides, you aren’t the only reason I came.”  He looks around and Shea shakes her head.

“Looking for Cassandra, then?”

“Yes.  Is she here?”

Cullen wraps his arm around Shea’s waist and pulls her close to him.  He’s not sure why he feels the need for such a public display of possession, but for some reason he does.  “I’m sure the Seeker will be along soon.  She argued long and hard about having to wear a dress.  We’ll see what Josephine was able to talk her into.”

“Trying to win her back?”

Her brother flashes her a coy smile.  “Shouldn’t be too hard, right?  We did fall in love at a ball.”

“Yeah, but if she doesn’t…”

“Oh.  I know.  If she doesn’t want to be with me, I need to accept that, but no one said I had to go down without a fight.  Now, excuse me.  I’ve got a woman to find.”  He turns away from them and disappears into the crowd.

She shakes her head and looks over at Cullen.  “He’s a lost cause.”

He nods.  “It appears that way.”  It dawns on her suddenly that she is nearly the same height as him.  She smirks and steps closer to him.  She snakes her arms around his waist and he does the same to her.  She lightly brushes her nose against his and the corner of his mouth twitches upward.  A soft blush appears in his cheeks and she sighs contentedly.  “What?”

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you blush like that.”

He reaches up to rub his neck and the blush deepens.  She laughs and grabs his face with both hands.  She pulls him abruptly towards her and plants her lips on his.  She feels him stiffen at the sudden movement before she feels him smile against her lips.  His melts and runs his hands up her back to pull her in closer.  It is the most public interaction he can recall them having.  In the center of the throne room, surrounded by friends and noble guests.  She has to break the kiss because she can feel that he is mere moments away from losing himself it.  She chuckles and uses her thumb to wipe the lipstick from his lips.  His fingers brush against her face as he brushes her hair behind her ear.  “Dance with me?”

She smiles and runs her thumb down his scar.  “But you hate dancing.”

“You don’t.  I may or may not have picked up a few things in preparation.  A certain Tevinter mage might get angry if I don’t show you off just a little.”

“Is this another Tevinter dance?”

He shakes his head.  “No.  But since you are a mage now, we could perform the one I learned at the Winter Palace.  Though, you being naked in front of all of our friends and potentially my family is not ideal.”  She laughs and playfully shoves him away from her.  He catches her hand and holds it against his chest.  “So, is that a yes?”

“Wait.  Your family is coming?”

“Possibly.  I did invite them and sent some men to tend to the harvest while they are here, but so far I haven’t seen them.  I imagine Branson is in the shadows somewhere since Leliana is here, but I can’t be sure.”

“Then maybe we save this dance you’ve learned until they get here.  Can you imagine how impressed they’ll be?”

“The only person I aim to impress tonight is you.” He pulls her hand up to kiss her fingers.

She smiles bashfully and looks away.  Her hair falls forward to hide the soft blush in her cheeks.  She doesn’t know why he’s making her feel bashful right now.  Saying things like that is not exactly new for them.  She assumes that it must be the wine.  “You don’t need to impress me, Cullen.  I’m already yours.”

He smiles and squeezes her hand.  She can feel his pulse increase at her words.  Sometimes she thinks that he somehow still thinks he’s dreaming or that he can’t believe that she actually chose him.  She laces her fingers with his.  “I’m feeling a bit warm.  Care to get some fresh air?”

“As you wish.”  He leads her through the crowd hand in hand.  He leads her into the garden and she smiles.  It has been decorated too.  Small glowing orbs hang in the air and under the covered areas.  The gazebo, near where the Chantry room is, is covered in vines and more glowing orbs.  The amount of magic he had to get people to use to make this effect is immense.  He leads her to the bench just outside of it.  She sits carefully on it and he settles in next to her.  She can hear the soft chants coming from the open Chantry door.

“So, you’ve managed to maintain the usual traditions for this day?”

He nods.  “I got a lot of grief for wanting to throw you a party on a day meant for reflection and honoring the dead.  I have already taken my time there, so you don’t have to worry that I’ve neglected my prayers.”

“You?  Neglect your prayers?  Never.”  She smiles up at him and leans into him.  He wraps his arm around her shoulders and leans back to a more relaxed position on the bench.  He plays the ends of her hair as they sit together in comfortable silence.  “You’ve done a remarkable job getting everything prepared for this.”

He smirks and presses his lips to her temple.  “I had a lot of help, but thank you.  It’s not easy to surprise you.  I do hope you are enjoying yourself.”

“I am.  It’s more than I ever dreamed.”

“Well… as I said before, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve for the evening.  A dance for one.  And a gift.”

“A gift?  This isn’t my gift?”

He grins down at her.  “Of course not.  A party is not a gift in my book.  A party only lasts one night.  Or a few nights if things get really crazy.  But a gift has to be a thing.  Something you can hold.  Something that is made or purchased just for you.  And I think you’ll like it.”

She turns on the bench to face him more.  “What is it?  When do I get it?”

“Later.  I’ll steal you away from the party at some point to give it to you.”

“Why not now?”

“I have a plan, love. Be patient.”  He kisses her forehead. 

Jim comes walking towards them.  He stops and salutes.  “You asked to be notified when your family arrived.”

Cullen smiles.  “Yes.  Thank you, Jim.  Are they in the courtyard?”

“Not anymore.  Lady Montilyet has taken them to their rooms and providing them with the clothes you requested.”

Cullen stands and helps Shea up.  “Tell them I’ll see them shortly.” Jim salutes and turns to leave.  Cullen takes Shea’s hand and leads her back towards the throne room.  Once inside, he kisses the back of her hand.  “I’ll be right back.  Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I can’t make any promises.”  He briefly touches her cheek before turning to head to the guest rooms that overlook the garden.  She watches him practically skipping as he goes.  He is thrilled they are here.  Maybe even more thrilled that he successfully surprised her.  She has to admit that she really is enjoying herself.  It is nice to get dressed up for once and start to feel a little more like herself, though not completely.  And for the first time in 22 years, she finds that she actually wants to participate in the somber part of this day.  Seeing that this severally personal loss is worse than anything she’s ever felt, it only seems right that she say a prayer for him.  Though, she still isn’t that religious, it seems to give Cullen comfort, so maybe it will help her too.  Though she is constantly interacting with well-wishers, barely cognizant of what exactly they are saying or what she is saying in response, feeling the smile plastered on her face as it has been for months.  Present but empty.  She can feel the shift inside her.  Still mourning, but feeling something else besides sorrow for the first time since that day.

If she can find a moment to slip away on her own, she’d go to that Chantry room, kneel before Andraste in her refinery and say a prayer for him.  Knowing that her strong ties to her elven blood had a lot to do with making his suffering less, she might also bring her halla necklace with her to say a few words to the Elven Gods as well.  Cover all her bases as it were.  His touch on her back breaks through her thoughts and she excuses herself from whomever she is blindly talking to.  He smiles at her and she returns it.  He has this look on his face that he still can’t believe he succeeded tonight, or maybe it is that he still finds it hard to believe that someone like her could look at him with so much love in her eyes.  “They all made it.”

“All of them?”

He nods.  “You should see little Noah in his suit.”

“Well, lead the way.  I want to give them the proper tour.”

“The tour can wait until tomorrow.  They are staying for a few days before heading back.”  He offers her is arm and she folds hers around it.  “I… uh… feel I should warn you that they… are a little lost as to how to act around you after…”

“Justin.”

He stops in his tracks and looks at her.  It’s the first time she’s said his name in weeks.  He assumed it was her attempt to move on, but then again it could have been that the name caused her pain.  There is no pain now, not that he can see or hear.  He nods.  “They, like everyone else, don’t know that you…”

“Haven’t forgotten.”

“Right.”

“I have been in my own world lately…”

“Which I understand.”

“Yes, but my point is I don’t know what the story is there.  What does the rest of Thedas think happened?”

He leans against the wall in the hallway between the doors to the garden and sighs.  “Well… the only thing that we could come up with that made any sort of sense, that wasn’t Cole erased him from your memory since that would not have gone over well, was that you were attacked by Venatori.  They used blood magic to attempt to steal the child, but they failed.  When they accidentally killed him, they erased him from your mind to protect themselves.  The story goes that while you recovered, my forces and I hunted them down and killed each one responsible.  The rumor we’ve allowed to spread is that you have no idea of what transpired, that you have no idea you were ever with child, and that anyone who speaks of it to you might end up causing you actual harm as the lingering result of the blood magic.”

“I suppose that would explain how I still remember everything else, except that.”

“It was the best we could do.  It’s obviously not ideal, but…”

“I left you little choice.”

“It might not have been pleasant, but I think maybe just banning it from conversation and saying you remembered would have been a lot simply.”

“Hindsight, my dear.”

He nods.  “So, everyone assumes mentioning it will physically hurt you. And there are reports circling that there have been witnesses to this.”

“And your family?  Is this what they believe?”  He pauses knowing he should say yes, since this is the Inquisition’s official unofficial stance on that matter, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie to them.  Not when he traveled all the way there to tell them without her knowing.  He just couldn’t bring himself to write those words and leave them to grieve alone.  And he knows when the pause lasts a little too long, seeing her bite her lip, and nod slightly that he can tell she’s figured it out.  “I understand.”

“Do you?  I figured you’d be upset?”

“A little, but you’ve kept your life away from them to save them from the pain of knowing exactly what you’ve suffered.  And since this pain… isn’t just yours… you needed them to know the truth.  Yet I don’t know how much of that truth I am comfortable with them knowing since I almost wish I didn’t know it myself.  That pain is mine.”

“They don’t know all the details.  Just that we lost the child and that you are more comfortable with the world thinking you never knew it happened.  I won’t lie and say that they are happy about pretending to be ok with going along with that since it means you’re dealing with this alone.”

“Not completely alone.  You’re here.”

“In Mia’s words, you are family and when you hurt, they hurt and what use is family when they can’t be there to help you through the hard times?”

She sighs.  “I’m sure she feels that way about a many number of things.”  He chuckles and nods.  “I’m sure your sister wants nothing more than to hear all the gruesome details of your time with the templars.”

“She does and I will never tell her.  Nor would I tell her the exact cause of Justin’s death.  I don’t like thinking about that any more than you do.”

She reaches out and takes both of his hands.  He steps away from the wall and presses his forehead against hers.  She takes a deep breath, “I want to do something later.  When we have some alone time.  I’m not really sure how to do it properly and um… I’d love for your assistance.”

“Anything, my love.”

She smiles and squeezes his hands.  “Alright.  Let’s go see your family.  They’ve come a long way to be here.”  He briefly presses his lips to hers before leading her into the garden.  She didn’t think seeing Noah after all this time would be painful, but seeing his golden curls, giggling and playing with the father he hasn’t seen in months tugs at her heartstrings.  She squeezes Cullen’s hand so hard, he nearly makes an audible noise.  He looks over at her and her eyes are wide, staring at his nephew.  He watches a tear well up and spill over the mask before she shakes her head violently.  She releases his hand.  “I need a minute.”  She summons her magic and disappears into the shadows.

“Shea…”  He had no idea she could do that.  He can feel her magic though, the still lingering effects of the lyrium in his blood.  She’s still in the garden somewhere.  He watches his family for a moment and then he realizes the issue.  Their son had blonde curls and seeing Noah likely reminds her of the time she spent with their son in the fade.  He sighs and walks forward.  Mia sees the look on his face.

“Something’s wrong.  What is it?”

He plops down on the bench near the gazebo.  “She’s having a hard time.  Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown a massive party when… she’s out here somewhere.  Cloaked by magic.  I think Noah reminds her of Justin.”

“But he was a babe.”

Krissy touches Cullen’s shoulder, “He had the Rutherford mane?”  He nods.  “And he’ll never be what Noah is now.”  He sighs and nods.  “Any idea of where she is?”

“I’d have to work a little harder to figure it out and that won’t be good for the evening.”  He feels her before he sees her.  He stands up and meets her halfway to the family.  He holds out his hand and she takes it, lacing her finger with his.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.  Are you… ok?”

“I’m better now.  I could hear you and it’s not that he looks like him.  It’s that I’ll never… in any case, I refuse to let this ruin what you’ve planned.  I’ve enjoyed myself until this moment and I can do so again.  Easier said than done I suppose, but that is the Trevelyan way, might as well embrace it for the time being.”  He wants to argue with her, but if that is how she wants to cope, then he’d let her.  She’s never been more grateful for a mask.  She leads him back to the family.  “This is such a nice surprise!”

They all take turns giving her a huge hug, Krissy and Branson tightest of all.  Shea assumes it’s because they are parents and can imagine more than the others what she is feeling.  She finds herself hugging Noah the longest.  He doesn’t seem to mind.  He is just happy to see his Auntie Shea again and to be in a real castle.  She doesn’t really register what the adults are saying.  She just smiles and points to the biggest tower.  “My room is up there.”

He looks up all the way up and gasps.  “That’s really high!”

“It is, but it’s not scary.  And you can see really far.”

“Wow!  And do you have a bunch of horses?”

She nods.  “Sure do.  More than just horses though.  I’ve got mounts unlike anything you’ve ever seen.  And you’ll see all of them tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait!”

She can hear the laughter coming out from the throne room.  Loudest of all is Bull’s.  She smirks and straightens from where she is squatted down next to him.  “So, I know Branson and Rosalie have, but have the rest of you ever seen a qunari?”

Rosalie hops up of a bench.  “Bull’s here?!  Does that mean the Chargers are back?!”

Shea smiles brightly.  “Only one way to find out.”  Rosalie hooks Mia’s arm and practically drags her inside.  Noah takes her hand and she hooks Cullen’s arm.  Branson walks with Krissy, the two of them never further than 5 feet apart.  They walk in just in time to see Rosalie jump on Krem.  Her arms thrown around his neck, the other Chargers elbowing each other and sniggering.  Mia hugs him as soon as Rosalie is clear enough.  Shea had no idea when they had met, but it appears Mia approves.  Shea leads the introductions of all of her friends to her family-to-be.  And things are fun but fairly uneventful as the rounds are made to greet the rest of her guests.  She sees Dorian tap Cullen on the shoulder and whisper something.  He nods and she turns to him as he approaches.

“According to our friend over there, the reason people aren’t dancing is because the host and guest of honor have not started it.”

“That’s not how it was at the Winter Palace.”

“Apparently, it’s widely known that the Empress rarely actually dances.  She only makes some sort of gesture and then it begins.  I personally think our mage friend is full of shit.”

“Hmm.  Well, I know one person who will know.  Come along.”  She walks right up to Vivienne, who brushes off whomever she is talking to.  “What is the Orlesian custom when it comes to dancing at a ball?  I know Marchers just start when the music does, is it so different in Orlais?”

“Of course not, my dear.  I don’t dance at my own parties, so why should anyone else?  However, I happen to know that after that little display the two of you put on at the Winter Palace, that people are considering a dance protest if you don’t start things off.”

“And do I know who’s responsible for that?”

“I would never think of incriminating a fellow mage.”  She winks and goes back to talking with the nobles around her.

Shea smiles at Cullen.  “So, Dorian set us up.”

“Never doubted it.”

“We could protest.  Refuse to dance so no one else can.”

“Think of what they’ll say.”

“Can you believe that the Inquisitor threw a ball with no dancing?”  She scoffs.  “Marchers might be less refined than those Ferelden dogs.”

He covers his mouth, gasps, and puts on his cheesiest Orlesian accent.  “But the Lady Inquisitor is an expert at the Game.  Surely she would never do something so scandalous.”

Dorian comes up behind them and gives them a little shove.  “Will you too beautiful nerds get out there and dance already?”

They laugh and Cullen leads her to the open space at the base of the stairs in front of her throne.  Dorian and Josephine have deemed this the designated dance space.  The musicians are seated in the sunken space off to the side.  Cullen nods and the music is cued up.  It’s not near as flashy or lively as their dance in Halamshiral.  She honestly has no idea where Dorian learned it.  This is the dance her parents did every All Soul’s Day to start the festivities, which likely meant it is a Marcher dance and not Orlesian.  The whole dance is a bunch of sweeping circles and twirls, and rarely does her hand leave his.  Said to resemble the soul as it joins the Maker’s side.  Though that seems like a load of crap to her, especially after seeing what the Fade truly looks like.  It is a short, joyous yet somber dance.  And the hall erupts in applause when they finish.  He leads her through the crowd as people rush the floor to dance now that it is acceptable to do so.  They find his family seated at a table with Josephine.  Food is bring brought out and they sit with them to eat.

They all comment on how surprised they are that their brother can actually dance since he always claimed otherwise.  He smirks and looks over at where Dorian is shamelessly flirting with Shea’s brother.  “I had an excellent teacher.”  They assume he means Shea and don’t bother asking for clarification.

The night is a blur after that.  A bunch of talking, eating, drinking, and dancing.  At some point, Dagna waves and gives a thumbs up to Cullen and he simply nods.  As things start to wind down, Shea finds herself leaning back on Cullen, his arm draped across her chest.  He presses his lips to her ear.  “I still have to give you my gift.”

She turns her head to look at him.  “Your family, save Rosalie, have all gone to bed.  And you know this is going to just keep going well into the night.”

“Yes, but I have a feeling once I give you your gift, that you’re going to want to have an early morning.”

“Oh really?  That does seem like a feat.  Let’s see this gift.”  She leans forward and he stands.  He takes her hand and leads her to the undercroft. She chuckles.  “This doesn’t seem like a place one goes when dressed like this.”

“Well, there was no way we could have gotten in through here and hidden in our room without you noticing it.  Dagna and I have been working too hard on this, just to have the surprise ruined before it was ready.”

“You mean she just finished it today?”

He nods.  “It took a lot of research and some trial and error, but she figured it out.  We just hope you like it.”  In the center of the forge is table covered in red velvet cloth.  The long slender mound beneath it letting her know it’s definitely a weapon, and from the shape it is likely a new staff.  She really appreciates the gesture, but she doesn’t need a new staff, nor does she want one.  What she really wants is to have never been a mage and thus never connected to the Fade the way dreamers did.  Losing their son wouldn’t have been as painful then.  He smiles at her.  “I think you’re going to like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“More than you could possibly imagine.  Let me just say that she’s outdone herself this time.”  He motions to the table.  “Well, go on.  Do the honors.”

She grasps the edge of the fabric and slowly pulls it off the table.  She smiles at him.  It looks like a jeweled staff.  A long white pearlescent shaft, with two diamond shaped prisms held in place with a dark shiny metal at the base and in the middle.  The top of it is a flat metal diamond with another prism in the center.  “It’s beautiful, Cullen.  Thank you.”

He chuckles.  “You think it’s a staff, don’t you?”

“A very ornate one that I’d be afraid to get dirty.  Why?  It is not?”

His mouth turns up at the corner as he tries to stifle her favorite grin.  “Pick it up.”

She does and it has much more heft to it than any other staff she has ever touched.  She finds that is it too heavy to even be handled like a staff.  She looks at him and he has his arms crossed over his chest with one hand covering his mouth, trying to hide the smug grin that is fighting to be seen.  She faces him and points it at him.  “Alright.  What’s funny?”

“Use both hands.”

“Since when do you use two hands…?”

“Just do it.”

She shakes her head and takes it with both hands.  The three prisms glow and she feels her magic being pulled into them.  Not a lot and not enough to really impact anything she’d want to do, but it feels like her magic is powering it somehow.  Once the prisms glow completely white, two shimmering arced blades spring forth from the sides of the flattened top.  She lets out a gasp.  It isn’t a staff at all, but a magic powered great axe.  She finds she can’t speak louder than a whisper as she looks at the shimmering translucent axe.  “Oh.  Cullen.”

“She modified it from a schematic you found.  She’s calling it the Prismatic Greataxe.  Though I’m sure that’s what it was called originally.  She said that she simply left off the runes that made it do that without magic and because of that it will only work for you.”  She drops it on the table and throws her arms around him.  Covering his face in red lip prints.  He laughs and wraps his arms around her, to hold her to him.  She hugs him tightly.  “Like it?”

“Like it?  I love it!”

He sighs and kisses her neck.  “I knew that you would.  I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at your axe on the wall lately.  And I get the feeling, since I haven’t seen you use magic in a long while, that you are over being a mage.”

“And wishing I wasn’t.”

“I hope this has made you… happier about it.”

She loosens her grip to look at him.  She places her hand on his face.  “Cullen… I… hadn’t even realized you noticed that I haven’t been… I’m going to need to train to get back into fighting shape.”

He flashes her his signature smirk and she runs her thumb down his scar.  “And I’m more than happy to help you with that.  Just know that I will not be going easier on you just because you are my future wife.”

“You know I’d be furious if you did.”  She is beaming at him.  It’s the first time he has seen her genuinely smile since it happened and he suddenly feels like crying.  She chuckles.  “Are you ok?”

“Yes.  I just haven’t seen you smile like this in a while.”

“I know and I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.  You have nothing to apologize for.”

She caresses the side of his face.  She forgets how hard he works to keep his emotions from her, knowing that they only remind her of what she’s considers her failure.  She knows that’s not true, but she can’t help feeling that way.  He has never blamed her, never pressured her to move on, never attempted to make her get out of bed on days when she just couldn’t find to motivation.  Yet he is always there, even when giving her the space she requested, he never leaves the room.  He’ll sit at her desk, or on the couch.  Reading reports or a book, or simply watching the logs burn in the fireplace listening to her crying while hiding under the blankets of their bed.  “I haven’t said this much in the past few months, but I love you.  I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“And I want you to know that I am beyond thankful that I have you in my life.  You are too good for me.”

“That’s how I feel every time I look at you.”  He leans forward and brushes his lips against hers.  “I love you, too by the way.”

She chuckles.  “I gathered.  Your actions alone have shown me that.”

“It’s getting pretty late and I assume we have a training date tomorrow.”

She nods.  “Starting with a run at sunrise?”

He smiles.  “Sounds like a plan.  Wasn’t there something you wanted to do before the night was over?”

“Yes.  But first.”  She leads him up the stairs back into the throne room.  She motions for one of the guards to come over.  “Could you take the uh… weapon from the table downstairs and place it in my quarters?”

He salutes and bends at the waist.  “Yes, Inquisitor.”

“Thank you.”  She takes Cullen’s hand and leads him through the crowds of drunken guests.  She takes a deep breath of the cool night air when they enter the garden and then continues across it.  She finds that the Chantry door has been closed.  She pushes it open to find that the room is full of candles.  He squeezes her hand and moves around her.

“I’m not sure what else you do in the Free Marches today, but in Ferelden, and I think Orlais too, we light candles to honor those we lost in that year.  Considering what’s happened… well, there are far fewer candles since you’ve defeated Corypheus.”

She sees a box in the corner contained candles and little wooden sticks.  “Have you lit any this year?”

He nods.  “A few.”

“We don’t have this tradition.  It’s all parties and costumes.  I’m sure some of the more devout Andrastians do something like this, but I’ve never…”

“Is that why we’re here?”

She nods.  “I’m assuming you already lit one for Justin.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t.”

She reaches into the box and pulls out a candle.  She finds a spot in front of the statue and sets it down.  She looks back to see him closing the door.  She holds out her hand and he takes him.  He helps her kneel down in her dress and takes a spot beside her.  “Do we... say anything?”

“You don’t have to.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything out loud.  Just recited a few lines and hoped that he was at peace with the Maker.”

She stares at the candle.  “Could you recite them now?”

He nods.  “Sure.”  He takes her hand and holds it between his.  “In the long hours of the night, When hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know, Your Light remains.”  He opens his eyes and watches her light the candle in front of him with her magic.  He tries not to chuckle at the irony.  That the Herald of Andraste just used magic to lit a candle inside their little Chantry.  He watches her sit there for a moment with her eyes closed.  He wishes her could hear what she’s thinking, wishes he knew if this is helping at all, as it so often did for him.  She opens her eyes and uses her free hand to wipe a tear away.  He doesn’t say a word.  This is her time and he knows it took a lot to get her here.  So, he stays on his knees and holds her hand.

“That was lovely.”

“It seemed fitting.”

“What’s it from?”

“It’s the second verse from the first Chanticle of Trials.  The whole thing is for those who are despairing.”

She nods.  “I think I’m ready.”  He stands and she pulls on his hand to stand.  They link arms and head back inside.  He can tell her heart is still heavy, but it is clear that she is slowly coming out of the darkness.  He didn’t tell her that he lit a candle for her earlier in the day.  He left like he was starting to lose her and he prayed that he wouldn’t, that she’d find her way back to him.  And for the first time in months, he feels like maybe she’s finding her way back.  They bid their guests good night as they stroll through the great hall.   Telling them to stay as long as they wanted, that the party didn’t have to end just because they were calling it a night.  He locks the door behind him and ascends the stairs behind her.  She unhooks the bell before going to her wardrobe.  He doesn’t follow her in and sits on the bed removing his boots.  “Cullen?”

“Yes, love?”

“I need assistance.”

He stands and carries his boots with him.  She is struggling to reach the buttons on her back.  He smirks and bats her hands out of the way.  She pulls her hair forward and he makes quick work of the long trail of buttons.  “Anything else?”

“I think that’s it.”  He nods and turns to walk out.  “You can… stay.”

“Are you sure?”  She nods.  “Alright.”  He puts his boots away in his wardrobe and tries not to watch her undress while he does.  She hangs her dress and places it inside the wardrobe.  She glances over at him where he stands beside her.  So much has happened to them, both together and separate, and yet here they are, doing something as mundane as getting ready for bed next to each other.  She recalls how simple things used to be.  That just being in the same room together seemed to make things easier.  That hasn’t really changed, yet there is a distance forming that she wasn’t really aware of until now, seeing him purposefully looking away from her as he removes his fancy clothes.  It has been an emotional roller coaster of a day, but the last thing she wants is for him to have any doubt that she still wants him.  Nothing has changed really, save for the disdain she has for herself. 

She should probably be changing instead of watching him, but she can’t tear her eyes away from him.  He hangs his pants, shirt, and jacket then pulls his sleep pants from their spot.  He feels her lips press to the spot between his shoulder blades.  He glances back at her over his shoulder.  Her mask is still on.  Which reminds him that so it his.  He reaches up to remove it, “Leave it.”

“What?”

“Leave it on.”

“Um… love, how am I supposed to sleep if…?”  She kisses his back again.  Her nose brushes up his spine.  He closes his eyes and swallows.  “Not to sound like I’m not happy about being touched, but uh... are you sure you want to…?”  She kisses his back again and then drags her tongue up his spine.  A shiver runs through him and when he looks back at her, her chin rests on his back and she blinks up at him.  His cock twitches in the hopes that she means to be doing this to him.  Maker forbid that she’s toying with him.  His body can’t handle it.  She places her hands on his hips and presses to signal him to turn around.  He drops his pants and moves slowly.  Not that he’s afraid to spook her, just that he can’t really believe this is happening.  He figured there’d be some sort of discussion as to when she’d be ready.  He hasn’t even looked at her since before, but he has pictured her in his mind when he’s alone in the bath. 

Now that he is fully facing her, she reaches between them to brush her fingers on his slowly growing bulge.  He groans and runs his hands down her arms.  When she kisses him, he notices that she is still closer to his height, which means she still has those shoes on.  Then the idea of taking her while she is still wearing her fine underthings is all he can think about.  But it’s been so long.  It should be tender and slow, less bending her over her desk and more taking his time and really enjoying this moment.  She seems to have other plans.  She hooks her fingers into the band of his smalls and quickly works them down to his ankles.  He looks down and she is on her knees in front of him.  Their closet isn’t well lit when none of the candles are burning.  The only light comes from the fire in the next room, yet somehow the mask and her eyes twinkle up at him.  Her hands kneading his thighs.  He’s not even fully hard yet when she takes him in her mouth.

He moans and his head falls back.  Wet tongue and lips lap at his length and in no time at all he is rock solid.  Pre-cum mixing with her saliva.  If she isn’t careful, she’ll finish him right there.  She quickly stands and he grabs her face.  He pulls her lips crashing to his.  Her hair tangling around his fingers while he clings to her.  He backs her out of the closest and into the bedroom.  Not breaking from her lips or waiting for some sign that she’s changed her mind.  He’s not even really thinking right now.  His body craves this and nothing is going to stop it from claiming his prize.  Her hands work at the hooks on the front of the corset.  And though he had the idea for her to leave it on, he now longs to see all of her.  If she is willing to show him, he won’t stop her.

Moments later, he hears fabric and metal slap against the floor and feels her skin press against his.  She shivers at the contact and he is so wrapped up in her kiss that he can’t bear to stop just to look at her.  Which might be for the best.  Even just wrapping his arms further around her than he has in a long time is reminder enough that things aren’t as they should be.  He knocks that thought right out of his head.  This is their life and nothing they can do will change anything.  This is how they are supposed to be.  Together.  In all honesty, that’s all he’s really ever wanted.  Nothing she could do would change his mind or heart on that front.  She feels the urgency shift, the smile spending against her lips.  The way his arms become more tender but still strong.  Signals that the surprise and primal actions have been beaten back by his over active mind.

He doesn’t speak though, for that she’s grateful.  She might not have the nerve to continue if he expressed whatever he is thinking right now.  She grabs two fists full of his hair and pulls his lips hard onto her mouth.  She wants to be dominated like he had been about to do before.  She hadn’t known that’s what she wanted until his body just took over before his mind could catch up.  He hisses and his fingers dig into her hips.  She sighs at the pain and pleasure his hard grip and callused hands sends through her body.  That alone is almost enough to send her barreling over the edge.  A low rumble rises from his chest and she knows her job is done.  Months of hunger has been woken and freed.

He grabs her ass with both hands and lifts her up.  Her limbs encircle him and hang on for dear life.  He surges forward and they both fall onto the bed.  The full force of his weight lands on her, something he would normally never let happen.  He’d brace himself in some way so he wouldn’t crush her.  Now, all she can feel is him, skin, hair, muscle all pressing her down onto their mattress.  The stones on his mask scratch at her skin and his lips hurriedly seek to claim what they can.  She pants and claws at his back.  Her heels dig into the backs of his thighs.  He rumbles low and with a slightl weight adjustment he pushes himself into her without preamble.  She cries out as pain and pleasure in equal measure flow through her.  She stretches around him and is reminded just how big he is and why he usually takes his time getting her ready.

Her hands run down his back at grab hold of his defined ass, feeling it flex while his hips hammer out a staccato rhythm.   She finds it a little hard to breathe, in the best way, with his whole weight settled firmly on top of her.  Not a single speck of space between them.  His mouth pressed to his favorite spot on her neck, nibbling, licking, biting.  It’s almost like she’s more a part of him than she is herself.  She can hear herself moaning and crying his name in his ear.  Feel herself coming over and over, but it’s far away.  Like her body is there under him, but her mind is in his.  Off in the Fade listening to him beg for her, crave her, think about how much he missed her, how much he needed her.  The only sign that Cullen isn’t completely lost in his lust comes when his body arches around hers, his thrusts slow, and his body begins to tremble.  Only then does he push off her and severing whatever mental connection she thought she had with him.  His eyes trailing down her body, taking himself in his hand, and barely pulling out before spilling onto her stomach.  She traces the veins that are bulging in his neck while he rides it out.

The groan that finally breaks free is the loudest she can recall hearing from him.  The ungh echoes off the walls and his face is bright red.  Suddenly she feels incredibly guilty.  It’s almost like he hasn’t had a release since the last time they were together.  She knows that can’t be true.  Surely he’s taken care of himself in her absence.  As he had admitted to doing when she was travelling.  She expects him to collapse fully once he finishes.  And he does fall forward, but he catches himself with his hands on either side of her head.  She watches those molten honey eyes taking in her face and the intensity of his expression makes her look away.  The guilt rises up from deep in her gut and mixes with shame.  She turns her head to the side.  Her nose brushing against his wrist.  He feels her sigh more than he hears it.  “I’m… I’m sorry, love.”  She smirks slightly at how winded he sounds.

“For what?”

“I… got a little… carried away.”  His fingers brush her hair away and trail down the scar pointed up at him.  She closes her eyes and sighs.  “I didn’t… hurt you did I?”

She looks at him then, her head whipping to look up at him.  “No.  Of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

She sighs and tenderly runs her index finger down his scar.  “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“For?”

“Making you wait so long.”

He shakes his head and shifts to lay on his side bedside her.  Half of him is still mostly over her, but the weight has been lifted.  She turns her head slightly to follow his face.  “Love.  I would have waited for you forever.  I would have waited as long as it took.  Even back in Haven, after I was injured, if you had stopped me, I would have waited until you gave me the all clear.  You are the only person I will ever want.  And I will wait for you forever.”

Tears well up in her eyes.  She can see by the glow and softness in his golden eyes that he means every word.  He isn’t saying it, but if she were the Chantry, he just made a vow of celibacy in the event she decided they would never have sex again.  She shakes her head, trying to clear the blur from her eyes.  She needs him just as much as he needs her.  “I would never do that to you.”

“I still stand by the statement.”

“And I appreciate the sentiment, but I would never make you be celibate for me.”

“But I would.  If you told me that we would have a sexless relationship, I’d be ok with that.  Sure, I might be tempted or have to take care of myself from time to time.  All I want is you in any form you deem appropriate.”  She bites her lip and looks away from him.  His fingers brushes against her cheeks catching the tears before the can slide too far.  As he had done on the bad days when she barely recognized his presence.  She doesn’t deserve him.  He thought that all the time about her, but the longer they are together the more she realizes that he may have baggage from his past, she’s the one who keeps piling onto her ever growing stack.  Something she imagines is going to keep happening since shit just keeps piling higher and higher.  And on the down swings, she curses herself for ever leaving Ostwick in the first place.  He should run for the hills before she brings him down with her.

He touches her scar, as he so often does when he feels like she’s getting lost.  “I didn’t mean to dump that one you… right after… I just…”  He sighs and rolls onto his back.  Their legs are the only things still tangled together.  He looks out the open stained glass window and stares up at the cloudless, star filled, black sky.  “I’ve been holding that in actually and it just sort of… came out.”

“Maker.  Now I feel a hundred times guiltier than I did before.”

His head snaps to looks at her.  “Guilty?  What for?”

“Not considering what my moods and self-consciousness was doing to you.”

He actually laughs.  “I’m so sorry.  I shouldn’t laugh, but we just love this circle, don’t we?  I’ve seen the look on your face just now that I’ve seen in the mirror a thousand times.  And it’s not the first time I’ve seen it on your face either.”

“What look?”

“The one that says that we don’t feel good enough for the other.  That we’re too damaged to possibly be a good match, for anyone, but especially to someone who is so much better than we are.”

She scoffs and the corner of her mouth twitches up.  “Guess that means we’re the perfect match for each other then.”

He nods and rolls back towards her.  “I suppose so.  Guess we should stop dwelling on our own faults and just accept that we’re stuck with each other.”

She finds herself smiling in spite of herself.  “Guess so.”

He scoops her up and presses her against him.  She tries to push away.  “What?”

“I’m going to get sticky.”

“I don’t care.  We can always bathe in the morning.”  She looks up at him and chuckles.  “What?”

“You’re still wearing the mask.”

“You’re not.”

“What?”

She touches her face and sure enough it’s gone.  “Where…?”

“I hope Dorian didn’t want to save that, because I may have torn it off it in half in my haste to see your face.  It’s stuck in your hair.”  She groans and pushes against him.  He sits up with her and she starts picking at the matted auburn strands to try to get it out.  He bats her hands away.  “Allow me.”

“I bet I look terrible right now.  Black makeup all over my face.  Hair in this condition.”

His presses a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder.  “Doesn’t change how much I love you.”

She hums and he can feel her starting to really relax after her emotional episode.  He hates to suggest what he’s even thinking.  It would mean not seeing her for weeks on end, but it is their normal and he’s been thinking that she might need that more than ever.  He has been too afraid to suggest it in the fragile state she was in.  He can hear in her voice and feel it in her body, that the Shea he originally fell for is slowly starting to reassert herself, but he worries that something might set her off and remind her of everything that’s happened since the Conclave.  Because losing their son was bad, but he knew how these things worked for him and she is more like him than either of them care to admit.  Like him, on particularly bad days, his mind would pull up everything bad that had ever happened to him and they’d just compound to make the thing that triggered the mood worse. 

Unlike her, he has had time to adjust, to regulate.  Mostly with work and physical activity.  Finding what his normal is and trying to get back to it.  She hasn’t given herself that opportunity.   She just let the depression wash over her.  Let is the wrong word, of course.  He knows it took years and a clear head to get to that point.  This is her lowest point to date.  He can see that this almost broke her, more so than reliving what the Nightmare showed her.  He feels so codependent for thinking this, but if it had broken her, that would have broken him.  His life now seems to be centered on her and the hardships she has to face.  Maybe it is his age and a decade’s more life experience that made him cope with this loss and not let it do what it did to her.  In his mind, when he compares the bad stuff that has happened in his life, this is not as bad.  Which makes the guilt ping in his gut.  But a mind who has gotten used to the things nightmares are made of copes much differently.  He wasn’t much younger than her when he experienced the events at Kinloch.  He remembers the anger he left back then and if he had to compare, he’d have to say that her depression level matched.

He nods, coming to some sort of conclusion as the mask finally comes free.  He holds it out to her and she takes it.  “Thanks.”

“You don’t seem tired.”

She smirks.  “Well, you do.”

He nods.  “It has been a busy day and my mind hasn’t stopped going until… well… you know when.”

She smiles brightly seeing that old familiar blush pop up.  It has been so long since she’s seen it in earnest.  Hints here and there, but never the full-fledged blush that has appeared now.  “You, my dear fiancé, are adorable.”  He rubs his neck and looks away from her.  “Did what you did to me embarrass you, Commander?”

“A little.  At least, it does now.  Felt good in the moment.”

“Yes.  Yes, it did.”

“Well, good.  Because I didn’t seem to care if you… enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh.  I did.  Don’t worry.”

“Well… Good.”

She turns and pushes against his chest.  He lays down, she kicks of her heels, and she settles in beside him.  His contented sigh as she settles her head on his pec and her fingers start to twist his chest hair makes her smile.  She’s not tired.  The silence in her mind in this moment of bliss is both welcoming and annoying.  But there is one thing about tonight that she can say.  There is no sadness, no depression lingering over her.  Yes, she still feels the loss and likely always would as she did so many others, Hayden, Emeric, her father, even after learning the truth about them.  She has a strong feeling that maybe she can survive this too and maybe she can push past it to keep living her life with the man she loves.  She looks up at him and his soft snores start to fill the air.  The man who loves her.  And that thought alone brings her just enough comfort to push the insomnia away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED August 2, 2018


	28. Physical

The sun is streaming through the windows and parted curtains on the bed.  She stretches and groans, covering her face with her arm to block out the light.  She hears him chuckle and the familiar sound of him donning his armor hits her ears.  She sits up, holding the blanket tightly around her to keep the cool air from drifting in through the open window.  “Going somewhere?”

“If I’m not mistaken, yes.  We discussed this last night before turning in for the evening.”

She inhales sharply.  “Oh right!  My axe!”

“Normally, we’d start at dawn, but seeing as we were both fairly worn out and it was your birthday yesterday, I gave you a little more time.  I had a few matters to attend to beforehand anyway.”

“Such as?”

“Giving my family the grand tour and finding a place to train where we won’t have an audience.”

“What’s that matter?”

He smirks.  “Love, when was the last time you actually used your axe?”  She actually has to think about it.  He nods.  “Precisely.  I would hate to usher in this new year of your life by providing you with an embarrassing defeat.”

She glares at him.  “I’m going to make you eat those words, Commander.”

His hands pause and he licks his lips.  He sets the piece of armor he was about to put on back on the stand.  “Tell you what.  I’m so confident that you’ll hardly be able to swing your axe with any accuracy that I’m not going to wear armor.”

She shakes her head.  “Well, good thing there’s always a healer on standby with me now.”

“That’s another thing.  Rules of engagement need to be discussed.”  He moves to sit on the bed and she scoots closer to him.  He brushes her hair behind her ear.  “No magic.  Only what is required to activate your axe when we get around to using it.”

“Think you can’t beat me without it?”

“No.  I think you want to go back to something you love and you need to focus on getting back in shape before adding magic in the mix.  I should also inform you that, we are not jumping to the sparring ring until we do some conditioning.”

She groans.  “Conditioning?”

He nods.  “It’s been nearly a year since you’ve become a mage and in that time your muscles have weakened.  Weighted staff or no, you’ve lost some of the power you once had.  We need to build it back up.  The technique should still be there, so I’m not as worried about that.”

“I’m plenty strong.”

He smiles and trails his fingers along her jaw.  “I’m not arguing that, my love.  But I seem to recall a small woman being strong enough to knock me on my ass.  And if I recall correctly, didn’t you do the same to Bull?  No way you could do that now.”

“I bet I could.”

He scoffs.  “Without magical aid?  I doubt it.  Remember dear, I trained your armies.  I have a pretty good idea on how to assess these things.”  He goes to move off the bed and she grabs his sleeve.  He looks down at her and smiles.  “You can look at me like that all you want, I will not be going easy on you.  If the Inquisitor desires to be both a warrior and a mage, it is my job to make that happen.”  Her nose wrinkles and he bends down to cup her face.  “The bath is ready for you and I will see you in the courtyard in an hour.”  He kisses her quickly before she can protest, grabbing his sword and shield as he rushes down the stairs wearing the padded pants and boots from his armor and the simple long sleeve cream shirt he wears under it all during the colder months.

He is definitely in a happier mood than she’s seen him in in a while.  Likely because her mood has improved exponentially since last night.  She actually looks forward to being trained as she used to be.  Drilled and pushed both physically and mentally to have the fortitude to keep going even when she is ready to quit.  She’s seen him work, seen his men work.  He is a hard ass when it comes to training and until today, he’s never had to turn that kind of attention her way.  She does not doubt him when he says he won’t go easy on her, because she, more than any of his men, has to be an example to others in everything she does.  The figurehead and leader of the Inquisition can’t be allowed to carry a giant axe and make everyone look like a fool by not being perfect at it.  The same thing goes for her magic use.  Her teachers, most of them anyway, had been nice to her, patient.  But she learned best from Dorian, who was demanding and didn’t settle for anything but her best.  She smirks and wonders if she can have a two on one sparring session with her two hunky trainers once she is ready?  She throws off the blankets and rushes into the bathroom.  Excited to be pushed to her physical limits.

***

Cullen paces the base of the stairs that lead from the throne to the courtyard.  He looks up at the sky.  It has almost been an hour since he left her in their room.   Almost an hour before he became her Commander again and not her fiancé and lover.  She’s never had this side of him directed at her.  Their matches in the past had always been in good fun, a friendly competition.  Now, he is the instructor and he wonders if she’ll take him as seriously as his men did since she has laid with him and seen him at his most vulnerable.

She comes bounding down the stairs.  Looking almost like the woman he had met in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Her hair is now long enough to braid in the way she used to, yet wisps still escape here and there.  Her opted to dress very similarly to him.  Wearing her red leather padded pants, belt, and boots from her armor that she hasn’t worn since she outgrew them and switched to mage’s robes full time.  She wears a black shirt that billows slightly, but only because it provides her with just enough to move and the way she has it tucked in making it blouse out over her waist.  The gloves from her armor are tucked into her belt.  She looks so young in that moment.  Like the decade she has aged in the short time she’s been the Herald have melted away.  And just when he thought he couldn’t love her more, she beams at him coming to a full stop right in front of him.  She presses her fist to chest and bends forward.  “Commander, I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

He sees several soldiers stop their movements at the gesture.  A public supplication to his command.  He is aware that the gesture has quite a few implications, questions might be raised as to why their leader is saluting the commander of her forces.  He smiles knowing it is simply her playful attempt to show him that she is willing to take his instruction and that she is also serious about this.  He presses his fist to his mouth and clears his throat.  He clasps his hands behind him and looks her up and down.  She stands a little straighter in response.  She tries to fight the smile threatening to spring forth when he speaks to her as he used to.  Official, professional.  “Inquisitor, you are perfectly on time.”  He begins to pace slowly in front of her, as she has seen him do countless times in front of his troops.  “I see that you arrive unarmed?”

“As instructed.”

He nods.  “Good.  Now, I have no doubt that your training has maintained your speed and endurance, however we need to build your strength back up.  So, first order of business is a hike.”

“A hike?”

“Yes.  I’ve got a pack prepared for you.  Weighted, of course, to approximate the armor, weapons, and supplies you’d carry with you on the road.  Plus a little extra to build muscle mass.  And to be fair, I will be doing the same.  The goal is to reach the summit and back to the gates by lunch time.  Only then will you be allowed a break.”

She has no idea why, but him walking in front of her detailing the torture she’s about to have to endure is turning her on.  She’s sure this will fade quickly once the work actually starts.  And Maker only knows what fresh hell he has planned for after lunch.  “Is this your usual method, Commander?”

“Not at all.  You are not the fresh faced recruit that I’m used to training.  The ground work has been laid, now we just have to build it back up.  Ready?”

“Yes, ser.”

“Then follow me.” He turns on his heel and she follows along beside him.  They pause briefly to greet his family, who are still at the stables letting Noah hang around Dennett and the various animals.  But they don’t linger long, because she has a lot of work to do if she wants to make it back by lunch.  They jog across the bridge and down the keep in the valley below.  Jim is waiting for them with the packs.  He salutes them both.  “I have included snacks and water as requested, ser.”

Cullen glances over at her and a little grin appears on his face.  This must mean he has more than just a tiresome workout planned.  He returns his attention to the scout.  “And the other?”

“In place.”

“Very good.  Send Sky should you have a dire need for me.”

He salutes.  “Ser.”  Then walks into the keep.

Cullen picks up a bag and holds it out to her.  She turns her back to him and slides her arms in the straps.  When the weight fully settles on her shoulders, her legs instantly start to protest.  She turns to face him.  “Maker, Cullen did you put a whole person in here?”

He laughs.  “Close enough.  I did say I wouldn’t make this easy.  Our packs are of equal weight.”  He slings his pack onto his back with seemingly little effort.  “Ready?”

“No.”  She starts walking.  “Where are we going?”

“South.”

She looks up at the mountain to the south.  “We’re going to the pass aren’t we?”

He nods.  “At least, most of the way.”  He smirks.  “I highly doubt that you’ll be able to reach the summit and get back before lunch.  Thus the need for food supplies.”

She picks up her speed despite her legs complaining.  “Just watch me.”

He smiles, knowing he’s playing her determined nature to his advantage.  Doubting her always yielded positive results, maybe not right away of course, but that doubt made her all the more determined to prove the doubters wrong.  He credits that trait more than some of the others for why the Inquisition is as strong as it is.  Everyone, including him, doubted that she could survive having a mountain dropped on her, yet here she is.  Not just healthy, but victorious.  He learned long ago that nothing could stop her when she wanted something badly enough.  So, he’d make her want this even more.  To prove his doubt wrong.  It might take a few tries, but he had every bit of faith that she’d make it up to the pass where they first saw Skyhold and back, just maybe no today.  He trails behind her, watching her trudge through the snow that has already started to build up though winter is still months away.  He has watched her enough to know that the muscles in her legs are already burning, but she pushes through it.

She is fully aware that he is playing to this part of her; her desire to prove people wrong.  It isn’t the first time her advisors have done it and she would honestly be shocked if it didn’t happen again.  And it’s not that she lets them do it either.  She knows it is part of her behavior and doesn’t see anything wrong with letting it run its course.  Proving people wrong has a pleasurable effect, so what is the harm?  Maybe if she didn’t know when to quit, then it might be dangerous, but she knows her limits and she knows if she wants to return to her peak form she’ll need to let him manipulate this feeling in her.  This determination to be victorious and right.  She zeros in on the task at hand.  Up the mountain and back down again.  Every muscle in her legs burn.  Her lower back and shoulders ache.  But she pushes though it.  She tries not to look back at him, particularly strolling up the mountain.  It stands as a reminder that he is in better physical shape than a man behind a desk should be.

She’s in pain and winded when the pass levels out and weaves through the mountain.  He drops his pack in the snow and fishes out the water skin.  He opens it and offers it to her.  She does her best not to chug it, knowing that will only make her sick later.  He pulls the pack from her back and she drops onto a nearby rock.  They are both covered in sweat, her more than him given the amount of effort she’s had to put in.  She lazily hands it back and he notices the shake in her arm.  Her determination can only get her so far.  Her body needs a break more than her mind does.

“How are you doing?”

She glares at him and shakes her head.  “Pissed.”

“At me?”

“No.  Me.  For allowing myself to get this out of shape.”

He laughs and smiles.  He sits down next to her and she leans over to rest her head on his shoulder.  “You had an excuse.”

“True.  But I shouldn’t have gotten so… lazy.  This is going to take forever.”

He turns his head to press his lips against her temple.  She groans and pulls away from him.  “I’m gross.  Don’t…”

“Love, there’s no power in the world that can stop me from kissing you.”

She smiles weakly.  She looks up and groans.  “We’re never going to make it.”

“No, we’re not.  Though to be honest, I never expected you to.  You’d have to run the whole way, which is no small feat when there’s a mountain involved.”

She chuckles and stretches out her legs.  “Wouldn’t be the first time.  I remember once, very early on, running from a family of bears in the Hinterlands, up a small mountain.  We had a good laugh about it later, but poor Varric was almost grizzly chow.”

He grumbles and looks back at the pass behind them.  “You may have neglected to mention that.”

“Cassandra thought it best to leave it out of the report.  It was kind of embarrassing.  Solas was by far the most grace in our escape.  He scaled that rock face like he’d done it before.”  She looks over at him and he’s still looking back at the pass.  “Do you remember when we got here?  How Skyhold just appeared through the mist out of nowhere?”

He nods.  “That journey changed us all.  We got lucky at Haven, getting as many supplies as we did, but that walk was hard.  Even after everyone started looking at you like you were invincible.  I honestly thought I was seeing things at first.  But then it was really there and I felt… relieved?  It was the first time since Haven, when we were finally inside the walls, that I really felt that things might be ok.  You were alive, wounded but alive, and we had a fortress to protect us.”

She rubs her side, where the large scar on her ribs came reside after her old armor was crushed in her fall.  “Sometimes… when it’s really cold, like it was when I was trying to find you.  You in particular, not the whole group, if you’ll recall our conversation about that.”  He nods.  “I get this ache in my side and I feel like I’m back there.  Bleeding out and freezing to death.  That’s also something that was left out of the reports.”

“Your panic attacks in cold weather?”

She looks over at him and he’s staring out at Skyhold in front of them.  “You knew?”

He nods and smirks.  “Leliana isn’t the only one with… resources.”

“Who told you?  And why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m sure you can guess who and I figured if you needed me, you’d come to me, and that if you were leaving it out of reports then you were likely ashamed of it, so bringing it up could have made things worse.  That was my mind set then anyway.  As you know.”

“That’s not entirely true.  I wasn’t ashamed so much that I didn’t really understand why I was having them.  I knew full well that I was fine.  I wasn’t going to freeze to death and I wasn’t alone.  I think I would have welcomed your advice on it.”

He shakes his head.  “True as that may be, but the rat would have gotten their ass handed to them next time you went out in the field.”

“I want to say it was Dorian, but knowing how close you are with Bull, I’m going to say he told you.  He might be good with secrets, but he always has my best interest in mind.”

“Wrong.”

“Really?”  He nods.  “Only a select few knew.  Cole?”

“Nope.”

  She thinks about it long and hard.  Only two others knew, one was more likely to blab than the other.  “Varric?”

“You can’t just run through the list of all your friends hoping to land on a favorable answer.”

“Well, that leaves one who knew about that.  And it really surprises me that he would have spoken to you about it at all.  Hell, it still surprises me that the two of you spoke at all.”

“What can I say?  You brought us together.  And it didn’t hurt that our proximity and his private nature made him the perfect spy.”

She scoffs.  “Solas was your spy?  The Apostate and the Templar.”

He grins when she expectantly looks up at him.  “Oh alright.  _Former_ templar.”

“So, should we head back?”

He shakes his head and stands.  He grabs his pack and returns to the rock they are sitting on.  “First, a snack.  We need to get your energy back up.  Then I have something else I want to do up here before going back.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll see.”  He hands her something wrapped in cloth and keeps one for himself.  She unties it and finds nuts, dried meat, and fruit.  A simple snack clearly designed to provide her the nutrition for muscle building.  She looks back at the pass and shakes her head trying to push the questions bubbling to the surface away.  “What is it?”

“I just had some what if questions pop up that I’m really not fond of thinking about.”

“Such as?”

She sighs.  “What would have happened if I had died at Haven?  I have a pretty good idea of what that means for Thedas and the Inquisition.  That’s not where I was going with that.”

He nibbles on a piece of meat and nods.  “I think I know what you mean and quite honestly.  I’d probably be dead.  Most of us would be.  I mean take your pick at the cause.  I’d like to think it wouldn’t be exposure or starvation since I like to think that Solas would have lead us to Skyhold once he had whatever proof he required that you were in fact… it is said that he searched the fade for signs while we waited.  Unsure of what to do.  No one ever asked him directly, of course.  I was beside myself and not thinking about anything expect my personal loss.  We would have still needed an Inquisitor and I have no idea who that would have been.  Cassandra?  Hawke?”  He shivers and shakes his head.  “Maybe we would have found Danielle?  Either way we would have had to work to clear people away from rifts without the ability to close them.  But ultimately… I think I would have died at Adamant.  Maybe even sooner than that.  Your death would have made Corypheus’s time table much faster.  But that’s just on a professional level.  On a personal level, the war was already lost.  I would not have been myself, all work, maybe even a little reckless.  And I know I would have started taking lyrium again.  In large doses in an attempt to forget.  Which could also be how I would have died, though in battle seems more likely.”

She wraps her arms around his chest and squeezes him tightly.  “I don’t like to think about that.  You dying.  Or being back on lyrium.  Or any of it.  Things worked out the best way it could.  There is very little I would change.”

“I have a pretty good idea of what you’d change.”

“I bet yours is the same?”

He nods.  “I would have never broken up with you at Halamshiral.  Lyrium use to save your life be damned.  _And_ I would have punched Hawke square in the face for… well a lot of things really.  But mostly for pursuing you.”

“It was never a contest and he knew it.  But that’s not what I’d change.  I think that whole experience made us stronger in the long run.  No, I would have had someone else drink from the Well of Sorrows.  Perhaps me or Moira.  I didn’t know about my elf blood status then, but I regret giving it to Morrigan.  Not that I have a problem with Morrigan per se, just that I have… some questions that I didn’t have before regarding this magic that…”

He nods and hugs her to his chest.  “No need to continue. I get it.  Though, maybe Moira was the better choice, she’s Dalish and a mage and completely loyal to you no matter what.  Morrigan is only loyal to two people, possibly three without a shadow of doubt.  She seems to like you though so maybe you could write her about it?  Or maybe reach out in the fade?”

“Maybe.  But not right now.  It’s uh… not something we’ll be worrying about for a very long time.”

He nods.  “Agreed.”  He sees that she has finished her snack.  “Ready of the second part of the day?”

She laughs.  The rest felt great but the thought of actually moving again makes her whole body protest. He gets up and bounds over to his pack.  He pulls out two small hatchets.  He flips one in his hand to offer her the handle.  She takes it and while she’s holding it he pulls her standing.  “What’s this for?”

“The best way to build muscle is resistance, right?  Making them work?  So,” he nods to a tall tree.  “Make them work.”

She groans.  “We’re cutting down a tree with these tiny things?!”

“You’re the one who chose an axe as a weapon and seeing that you don’t have even strength to swing it properly yet, you get that.”

“It is an insult to call this thing an axe.”

He laughs. “We don’t have to succeed today.  When you find that you can’t continue, we will call it a day.”

“And when we do succeed, what the hell are we going to do with a downed tree.”

He smirks and walks towards it.  “We carry it back to Skyhold.”  The sound and physical manifestation of indignation that comes out of her makes him want to laugh.  But he manages not to.  He swings the hatchet and then looks back at her.  “Well?”  She growls but goes to the tree and starts swinging.

***

When they arrive back at Skyhold hours later, her whole body is sore.  The tree is still standing and she has to drag her pack.  As soon as she’s through the gate, she lets it go.  She is drenched in sweat and probably looks like she’s on the brink of death.  And she’s never been happier.  Cullen, the physically fit god he is, looks sweaty but gorgeous.  His hair somehow still perfectly quaffed despite the workout.  She is certain as the breeze blows a chuck of her hair in to her face that hers has not survived.  Cullen motions for the packs to be put away and she grunts in disgust as they two soldiers lift them without much effort.  She has the strong desire for long hot bath and a nap.  She starts to shuffle forward and then stops at the base of the stairs.  She looks up at Skyhold and groans loudly.  “Maker’s breath.  When did we get so many stairs?”

He places his hand on the back of her neck and squeezes.  She moans a little louder than she should.  He chuckles.  “You can make it.”

“Nope.  Just going to have to move in to the lower courtyard.”

“I would offer to carry you, but I would advise not letting everyone see you like that.  It sends the wrong message.”

“That I’m weak?”

“Hardly.”  He presses his lips to the tip of her ear.  “That the mighty Inquisitor has been defeated by a series of stairs.  Imagine what they’ll say.”

She slides her arm around his waist and leans against him.  “Well, we can at least look the happy couple while disguising the fact that you are helping me walk.”

“Don’t worry, love.  Now, that your Commander has had his fun, it’s your fiancé’s turn to make it all better.”

She looks up at him and raises her eyebrow.  “Oh really?  And how might he do that?”

“Make it up the stairs and you’ll find out.”

She sighs and forces her legs to move.  His arms loops around her waist and supports her weight more than a little.  She may as well be gliding up those stairs.  She smiles.  So, much for his not going easy on her policy.  He definitely wouldn’t be doing this for one of his men.  The journey is still fairly painful, but much easier with his help.  Once in their quarters, she plops down on their bed.  He shakes his head, chuckling, as he continues in to the bathroom.  She can hear the water running and it calls to her filthy, tired body.  Then a familiar fragrant smell comes wafting in the room.  She smiles and sits up.  “Embrium?”

He sticks his head out the door.  “A little elfroot too.  And it’s nice and hot, just like you like it.”  She hums and attempts to get up.  He chuckles when she fails to even move.  He leaves the bathroom and touches her knee.  “Which means we’re bathing in tea.”

She lifts her head to look at him.  He has stripped down to nothing.  His skin is flushed from their workout with a slight sheen in some places where the sweat is still drying.  She bites her lip and weakly reaches for him.  He takes her hand and gives it a frim tug, pulling her to a seated position.  He scoops her up and carries her into the bathroom.  She is still utterly baffled how he still has any strength left after their hours of labor.  He sets her down on a stool and kneels before her.  He unlaces her boots and pulls them from her aching feet.  He runs his hands up her legs and he tugs on her shirt to free it from her waistband.  The ends of the shirt are wet from the sweat getting trapped in the bunched up fabric.  He doesn’t put a lot of ceremony in getting her clothes off.  He’s all business and that business is taking care of the exhausted woman with the aching muscles.  He peels her shirt off, whips off her breast band, removes her belt, and unlaces her pants with purpose.  He helps her stand and she chuckles.  He looks up at her.  “What?”

“You’re being so professional about seeing me naked.”

He shrugs one shoulder.  “I’m on a mission.”

His matter-of-factness calms her hidden anxiety.  Yes, they’d had sex last night, but it was pitch black and he barely looked at her.  It is still light out now and he can see her as clear as day.  If he had made a big deal about it, then she might have stopped him from continuing.  But as it is, the matter of fact way he’s taking her clothes off reminds her of when he bathed her in Haven.  All business until she tempted and invited him to do more.  It was the first time he’d ever orgasmed in front of her and she had barely touched him. 

He peels her pants and smalls off.  His vision lingers on her body as his hands work on her socks.  The fact that he is really seeing her for the first time since is not lost on him.  He likes what he is seeing, naturally, but the evidence of her depression is more evident than she even realizes.  Eating just enough to survive takes a terrible toll on the body, something he has witnessed firsthand in both templars and mages.  She didn’t just lose her warrior’s muscle by being a mage, she is starting to waste away.  She is so thin in comparison to the woman he has imprinted in his mind.  His overall directive has changed slightly.  To not just get her back into fighting shape, but to get her healthy again.  He would not take no for an answer not matter what form it came in.  It doesn’t matter if she claims to be full or not hungry, she is going to eat everything he brings her.  Which likely means an increase of his own diet and riding a desk most days would mean more physical work for him to keep the weight off.

He stands and scoops her up again.  This time eliciting a few giggles.  “I can get into a bathtub, Cullen.”

He carefully steps into the near scalding water.  Hating it but knowing it’s what she likes and will help soothe her.  “You could barely sit up and you think I trust you to lower yourself into a slippery pool of water on your own?  Think again.”

She smiles and shakes her head as he lowers them both into the water.  “How are you still able to move, much less lift anything?”

“I’m used to it.  I train just like everyone else.”

“When the hell do you have time to do that?”

“Usually when I make rounds after my first round of report reading.”

She shakes her head and leans back against his chest once they are both seated.  “You say that like it’s common sense.”

“Only to those who’ve watched me work.  Though I will admit to being a little relaxed since you defeated Corypheus.  Not a lot of need to be at peak when there isn’t a war on.”

“Then why am I working so hard again?”

He grabs a rag and soaps it up.  He begins washing her arms and shoulders.  “I wasn’t going to talk about work while we were here, but since you asked.  There are still rifts out there.”

“Right.  A good portion did open back up.”

“Not as many as we feared, but yes.  A few have.  I’ve got men keeping the demons at bay and the people away.  I’ve also borrowed some of Leliana’s scouts to investigate every rift you’ve ever closed, just to verify the rumors and claims.”

She nods, relaxing against him as his wet hands rub her skin clean.  His fingers work the knots forming in her neck and shoulders.  She moans and closes her eyes.  He chuckles and knows that she’s going to thoroughly enjoy the next phase of this treatment.  He returns to his professional demeanor, something he is much better at controlling with her since they first met.  He is tempted but is much better at controlling his urges.  At least right now.  Once her body is clean, he washes her hair.  Carefully taking it out of the braids and making sure every tangle is gone.  Once he’s done, he spins her around and pushes her to lean on the other edge of the tub.  She admires him from across the tub as he scrubs his own flesh.  He seems completely oblivious to her ogling, simply focused on the task at hand.  She doubts she’ll ever tire of looking at him.

She slides forward while he reaches back to hang cloth on the edge of the tub.  She runs her hand up his thighs and he looks at her.  She bites her lip and he grins.  “Feeling better then?”

“Much.”

He cups her face.  “Well, you’re going to have to wait.  I have other things in mind.”  She raises an eyebrow and his grin grows.  “You will enjoy yourself, but a little patience is required.”

“If you insist.”  She stands and watches his eye take in her dripping body.  He wets his lips but reaches down to the floor to fetch her towel.  She rolls her eyes, but takes it.  He stands and fetches his own towel.

“Dry off and go lay on the bed.  I’ll be there in mere moments.”

She drops the towel on the floor and sways her hips as she walks away from him.  The sign that his advances are working is clear as day.  She won’t have to wait too long to get what she wants.  She plops onto the bed aroused and relaxed, but still quite sore.  He enters the bedroom holding a vial of oil.  She moans and instantly flops onto her stomach.  His laugh rumbles off the walls and he kneels beside her.  He pours the oil into his hands and rubs them together to heat it.  He starts with her feet, working each joint and muscle until he feels absolutely no tension before moving up to do the same on her ankles.  All the while, the moans rolling out of her are practically obscene.  He works up her legs then skips all the way up to her neck, using the same technique but working down.  He lingers a bit longer than planned massaging the muscles of her ass.  Catching glimpses of her holes when he spreads her cheeks.  His mouth waters as it had before but he opts to ignore it for now.  He has a few more muscle groups to work and then he’d provide her with a happy ending.  He rolls her onto her back and her now dry hair splays out around her.  She is flushed and breathless, but extremely relaxed.  She’s as limp as a rag doll.  He works the front of her legs first.  Working everything to release any and all knots or soreness.  He works her hips and up her side, then her arms and shoulders.  She squirms and sighs the closer he gets to the places she really wants him to touch.

His fingers press down the center of her chest, working the muscles there, then her stomach.  She whines and shifts beneath his fingers.  He just knows she’s dripping at this point and his cock throbs.  His body reacting to her more than his task operated mind.  Finally he is satisfied that he has gotten nearly every muscle, his fingers press up along her ribs, sliding smoothly across her skin.  His hands and fingers run in circles around her breasts.  Paying each one careful attention before moving inward.  Her fingers grip the bedspread.  She is at his mercy, immobilized by his massage.  Deep sighs and breathy moans roll out of her.  He gets an idea for something he hasn’t done to her in ages.  His oily thumbs circle her nipples, making them stand at attention even more than they were now that they are being touched.  She sighs with relief, her air rushing out of her.  He twists, tugs, and rubs her nipples, all the while watching her face.  Her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs open.  He doesn’t let up as she writhes on the bed.  Her whole body craving another kind of touch, begging him for more.  Her breath hitches and that is when he brings his mouth into play.  His lips capture one of her now overly stimulated peaks and sucks hard.  She breathes his name and he doesn’t let up.  His fingers, lips, and tongue never giving her the chance to catch her breath.  There is no teasing in his touch, he moves with purpose, actively seeking to achieve a goal.  She wordlessly begs him for release, her voice lost to the overwhelming sensations.

He switches between her breasts, giving each one equal attention with his mouth before moving.  She trembles beneath him, her body rapidly building to success.  His sucking intensifies, harder, faster touches making her voice squeak.  Tugging with teeth, lips, and fingers.  Releasing suddenly to let gravity take over and enjoying the bounce of her flesh as it does.  Her hands fly to his shoulders and he knows she’s nearly there.  Her nails dig into his skin.  He rapidly flicks his tongue and finger against both of her nipples and her body stiffens.  Her hands grip him and her breath catches in her throat.  He doesn’t let up, but he does shift his eyes to her face.  Watching it grow red while she holds her breath.  And then a gasp, her cry breaks free and it echoes off the walls.

He smirks against her chest and kisses down her stomach as she rides it out.  His hands hook behind her knees and pushes them towards her chest.  She opens up to him and he sees that he is absolutely right.  He wastes no time capturing her with his mouth.  The aftershocks transform into another orgasm in an instant.  Her fingers thread into his hair.  He devours her, tasting all that he can.  He missed this the most.  Her taste, her smell.  If he never had sex with her again, this is what he’d miss the most.  Nothing could compare to the power he felt being able to make this breathtaking woman writhe and scream almost violently as a direct result of his mouth on the apex between her thighs.  And simply knowing that he is the only man who has ever done this to her only adds to his enjoyment.  He doesn’t count that time with Dorian since he merely cleaned her with his mouth and didn’t aim to make her come.

He actually loses count of how many times she comes tonight.  He likes to keep a running total for his own reference.  He thinks he hears her say something, but in her whimpers and squeaks of pleasure he can’t make out what she said exactly.  When she attempts to speak again, he reluctantly tears himself away.  She reaches for him and he crawls up her body.  Placing open mouth kisses on her skin as he goes.

She pulls his face to hers when he finally reaches her.  Their tongues sliding together, tasting herself on him.  Her body arches up to meet his, her hips telling him what her words can’t.    He reaches between them to line himself up with her entrance and she hikes her knees up, opening herself up to him.  He pushes the tip in and hooks his arms behind her knees, presses his palms into the mattress.  He hips are slow, making deep board thrusts, fully enjoying the feel of her instead of the hurried need for release he had the night before.  She clings to him, her fingers woven into his hair, tugging on his blonde curls urging him to move faster.  He slowly obliges, picking up speed and intensity every time he feels her clinch around him.  Yet despite his best efforts his stamina is starting to give out.  She can feel it in his muscles.  The strain of holding back his climax.  Likely making a list in his head of the things he needed to do.

She nibbles on his earlobe and begs him, though what she’s begging him to do he can’t really make out.  He raises up to look down at her.  Her ocean blue eyes are so dilated they are almost black.  Her skin is flushed and sweaty.  Her skin tastes of herbs and salt.  Her hair is wild and all the work he put into making tangle free has been ruined.  She attempts to speak again and he catches three of the words in the sentence.  “Come.  Inside.  Ass.”  His heart rate skyrockets and his timetable for arrival rapidly approaches.  Then he catches one final word that sends him lunging for the massage oil on the bed.  “P… p… please.”

He’d normally work her up to it, loosen her as he was instructed, but there isn’t time if he wants to actually do as she requests.  Yet she couldn’t be more relaxed.  The bath, the massage, the countless orgasms, the position they are already in.  And it occurs to him and he dumps oil on both of them, that he has never seen her face during this process.  She was already nice and loose when he watched Dorian fuck her.  His brain makes a mental note about how this is second time he’s thought about her fucking Dorian.  He has to grab himself firmly while he presses into her ass.  The muscles resist him at first, but he continues to push.  Her hiss and moans letting him know it hurts but it is ok to proceed.  He pushes a little harder and the ring relaxes.  His eyes focus on her face.  He presses in harder and slowly slides in inch by inch.  She mouth falls open and her eyes squeeze closed.  He thinks he sees a few tears leak from her eyes.  He starts to back out and she cries out, “Oh Cullen!  Don’t stop!”

It’s the most coherent she has sounded since their lovemaking began.  He rocks his hip forward.  One thing he learns from this experience is that he thought her ass was tight before, now it is almost too tight for him to handle.  He has to move slowly and this in turn delays his orgasm a bit.  She pulsates around him and her orgasm makes him still.  As it passes and she relaxes again, he moves with purpose.  To give her exactly what she asked for.  Soon he is pounding deep and hard into her.  Her nails rake across his scalp and her cries are constant.  It is also the most vocal she has been able to muster this whole time.  Then she begs him, pleads for him to fill her ass with his come.  He is all too happy to oblige.  He surges forward and his body tightens in one sudden blow.  He erupts deep inside her causing her to orgasm one more time.  He gives her a few more stuttered thrusts to fully empty himself into her.  He feels her squeeze around him as slides out.  He looks down at her and finds that she has managed to keep it all inside.   His cock twitches at the sight.  He looks up at her and she’s smiling weakly.  Though he feels like he could go again, he can see that she can’t.

He crawls up the bed and settles in beside her.  Her breathing is still heavy and her skin glistens in the sunlight with a mixture of sweat and oil.  Her eye lids are heavy when she turns her head to look at him.  He leans down and presses a soft kiss on her lips.  She hums.  “I trust I’ve made up for this morning and afternoon?”

She chuckles softly.  “If that’s what it’s going to be like after every one of your training sessions, I say we train every day.”

“You say that now, but wait until morning and see if you feel the same way.”  He looks over his shoulder and thinks of the things he has to do.  “I should let you rest.”

“Are you not going to rest with me?”

His scarred lip twitches up at her whine.  He tucks her hair behind her ear.  “No, my love.  I have guests remember?”

“Oh right.  Then maybe I should…”

“Nonsense.  Taking a nap and I’ll fetch you at dinner time.”

“What will you tell them?”

A mischievous grin spreads across his face.  “Oh.  I’ll think of something.”

She groans.  “Please don’t tell them you fucked me silly and left me up here to recover.  Say I’ve got Inquisitor things to do or something.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, the kind that wrinkles his nose and the creases of his eyes.  “As if I’d ever tell my siblings that.  Bull and Dorian?  Maybe, but not them.  And certainly not Mia.  I’m sure she’d scold me for ravaging you then leaving you here alone.”

“Then don’t go. Simple as that.”

“As tempting as you are, I really should at least attempt to be a good host before Branson goes back to Val Royeaux.  Who knows how often we’ll be in the same location now that he too has an important job?”  His eyes scan her body and then shift behind him.  “How does taking a nap, possibly changing the sheets, taking another bath, and then having dinner up here tonight sound?  This is the only place they haven’t seen since you were sleeping this morning and Noah kept asking before I distracted him with my office.”

She smiles.  “And how did that go?”

He smiles.  “He climbed up in my chair and attempted to read one of the reports.  I was very tempted to run all the way back up here to get my mantle to drop on his shoulders and slick his hair back so he could more accurately imitate me.”

She gasps and hits him in the arm.  “We’re making them stay and doing that tomorrow!   Ooooh!  Better yet!  I will need to see Josephine after dinner.  Or maybe before!”  She attempts to sit up and fails.  She chuckles.  “Ok. Definitely after dinner.”

“What are you planning?”

“You’ll see.”

“Shea…”

“Don’t worry, it’s not bad.  Actually I think you’ll find it quite amusing.  Now, go put some clothes on and go see your family.  Unless you want to go to them with a half erect penis?”

He looks down at himself.  “Suppose I’ll need to do something about that.”

She tries to roll to face him and he has to help her.  “I was going to offer to help, but I feel like a wet noodle.”

He smiles and brushes his fingers along her jaw.  “I’ll be fine in a short while.  Just need to get up and moving.  And away from any… temptation.”  She opens her mouth to say some lewd remark but yawns instead.  “And on that note.”  He plants a firm kiss on her mouth and quickly rolls out of the bed.  She watches him walk around the bed to their closest.  Her eyes shifting up and down his sculpted frame, lingering on her favorite, well second favorite part of his body.  He can sense her watching and purposefully bends down to pick the oil up off the floor, ass pointed directly at her.  She makes a pleased grunt and he shakes his head before continuing on.  He dress quickly, fixing his sex mussed hair, opting for the more casual look he favors when he’s off duty.

When he comes back out, she is passed out.  Her mouth hanging open and her hair covering most of her face.  Since she has fallen asleep on top of the blankets, he fetches the one she has been keeping on the couch so she can read by the fire.  He drapes it over her and presses the softest of kisses to her temple.  She moans and rolls fully onto her stomach.  He lifts the blanket to get a good view of her ass before replacing it and hurrying down the stairs as softly as his boots will allow.

Walking into the throne room, closing the door softly behind him, he discovers that he doesn’t have to go hunting for his family as they are all in the great hall with Shea’s brother, Dorian, and Bull surrounded by Orlesian nobles.  Brandon is clearly running interference as the overwhelmed Fereldans are all at a complete loss for how to handle it.  Noah, who seems to be claiming some of the attention, is safely perched out of reach a top Bull’s shoulder, giggling like crazy as he smacks his large horns as if they were drums.  He has no idea how to handle this himself, it’s Halamshiral all over again.  His rear hurt just thinking about it, but he knows he should save them.  He straightens, feeling way too vulnerable to pinching without his armor, and walks with purpose in their direction.  Mia’s voice pitches loudly as it echoes towards him.  “Cullen!  Thank the Maker!”  Brandon deftly moves the noble he is protecting her from so that she can pass.  “Please tell me you’ve come to rescue us.”

He nods.  “I’m fairly certain my mere presence in their company should do that.”

They both scoff and at the same time say, “Orlesians.”  They laugh and he pats her arm.  A signal to stay put. 

He nods to Brandon who extends his hand and greets him loudly.  “Bann Rutherford!  I was hoping to see you and my sister before I took my leave back to Ostwick.”  Cullen’s grasps his forearm as if they were old friends.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting then.  The Inquisitor and I have been training most of the day.”

Several gasps occur around him.  A masked woman taps his shoulder and he looks over at her.  “Did the Teyrn say Bann?”

Brandon claps Cullen on the back.  “Why yes I did!  Have you not heard, dear lady, that I have formally granted Ostwick’s Fereldan Blight refugees citizenship and have named the Commander here their Lord?”

And at that every ounce of focus gets shifted to him, freeing Dorian and Bull to escort his family a safe distance away.  He tries to answer questions as diplomatically as he can since it is now public knowledge that he is a noble himself.  Which makes it all more distressing for them that he is off the market.  He fields inquiries on the marital status of his sisters and his lovely nephew.  Just because they can’t have him doesn’t mean they don’t want to sink their claws into the rest of the Rutherford line.  He smirks and is about to tell them to field all requests to his brother, but thinks better of it given the nature of his job.  “I apologize, ser, but any and all marriage plans are exclusively up to them.  Rutherford’s marry for love, not opportunity.  I would greatly appreciate it if you all would refrain from harassing my family with such requests.”

Brandon claps him on the back.  “Here, here.”

Cullen is surprised by his words more than anything.  The authority in them and how they were worded in such a way to make his stance both polite and final.  Heck he even sees a few of them place their hands over their hearts and sigh as if what he said was romantic.  It also seems like the best chance he has to flee.  “Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to spend some time with my family before they return to Ferelden.”

Brandon moves through the small group with him.  “I’d like to join you, if that’s alright.  Since they will be my family too.”

Cullen clasps his hands behind his back.  Though he is calm and polite on the surface, and Shea seems to have forgiven him, he has not.  Every time he looks at this man, who looks like the taller, male version of her, he has to fight the urge to punch him.  It is likely a combination of age, experience with Circle politics, training, and Josephine that actually prevented him from doing so.  Not to mention the utter confusion that would follow and that he would be his boss if the Inquisition ever ends.  He refuses to call him his King.  That is Alistair and nothing would change that even if the Ferelden ruler had a stick up his ass with the name Teagan carved into it.

“Certainly.  I sure they’d like to formally meet you and thank you for attempting to save them from the vultures.”

Brandon laughs, then shakes his head.  “Maker only knows what they went through before I showed up.”

“I’m sure I can venture a guess.”

“Had an encounter with them before I take it?”

“Indeed.  The mental scars should heal in time.”

“That bad?”

“I had bruises after those peace talks at the Winter Palace.”

“Surely you jest?”

“Would that I were.”  He spots his family gathered near the training ring.  Bull is running around with Noah still perched on his shoulders, howling with laughter, squealing happily as Dorian sets off an exploding ball of snow right in Bull’s face.  Krissy watches with the concern only a mother would have, but ultimately trusting the men not to hurt her child.  Branson leans on the railing beside her, his pack on the ground next to him.  Krem is leaning on her other side watching the fun, but shooting occasional glances towards Rosalie who is standing off to the side with Mia.  The sisters seem to be having a serious conversation based on their body language.  As they approach, the sounds of their boots in the dirt make them both turn their gaze on him.  So, they are discussing him or at the very least something involving him.  He motions for them to come with him and they meet him at the training ring.  “I’m sure you were briefly introduced last night, but this is Shea’s brother, Teyrn Brandon Trevelyan of Ostwick.”  He indicates each person as he makes the introductions.  “This is my older sister, Mia.”

Brandon, full of charm and swagger takes her hand.  “Older?  Really?  Could have fooled me.”  She blushes and pulls her hand away.

Cullen shakes his head and continues.  “My youngest sibling, Rosalie, and her...”  He glances between her and Krem.  She smirks and nods.  He looks at Krem, who looks at Rosalie, seeing her smiling causes a broad smile to break across his face.  Cullen isn’t as blind as the rest of his family believed him to be.  Maybe it is because he feels like he is seeing himself in how they act when they think no one is watching, but he knows from personal experience what it looks like for a man and a Rutherford to be in love.  He doubts they haven’t had the conversation about who they are to each other.  Likely after plenty of drink and the rest of his clan had turned in for the night.  Much like how Shea would sneak into his tent or he in her cabin back in Haven.  Because of all that, he knows that this will be the first public declaration, their first introduction as an item.  He likes Krem, and though he doesn’t fully understand how it would work between them, he knows it isn’t his business.  And all of these thoughts happen in a fraction of a second.  He nods to them both.  “Her boyfriend, Cremisius Aclassi.”

Brandon shakes Krem’s hand first.  “Krem.”  Brandon nods before taking Rosalie’s hand.

“I’m assuming you’re from Tevinter?”

“That a problem?”

“Not at all.  I happen to have a few new friends who live in Tevinter.”

Mia looks a bit confused.  She’s looking between Cullen, Rosalie, and Krem.  Branson holds out his hand and Brandon shakes it.  “Branson Rutherford and this is my gorgeous wife, Krissy.  The child sitting on top of the Qunari is our son, Noah.”

“Well, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you all and I do hope you can find the time to come to Ostwick.  I would love to show you around, just maybe not while there’s still so much happening up there.”  Branson opens his mouth to ask, but Brandon holds up his hand.  “But that’s not important right now.  Right now, I just want to get to know all of you.”

Branson smiles, “Pint on you then?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Cullen clears his throat. He hates that they’ve caught on so quickly.  “Don’t get too drunk.  Shea and I would like to have dinner with you all tonight in our quarters.”

Branson looks down at his pack and sighs.  “I probably shouldn’t be drinking anyway and I can’t stay for dinner.  I need to…”  He glances at Brandon and choices his words carefully.  “Get back to my post.  Divine Victoria leaves in a half hour and I’m part of the detail the Inquisition has given her.”

Cullen nods and Krissy loops her arm around his waist.  It isn’t a total lie.  Cullen has assigned some of his best men to protect Leliana since she lacks both Templars and Seekers who usually did that job.  It is the best cover she could come up with until she found a Right Hand and could publicly express that she had both in place. Though the identity of the Left Hand is kept secret save for those who are a part of the system to keep the hands and the Divine honest, or whomever she chose to tell.  When Leliana was Left Hand, very few people knew until just before the Conclave when Justinia decided to pull her out of the shadows.  Maybe Branson would get that from Leliana one day, but it is doubtful since he is a man in a position of power held exclusively by women until this moment.  Cullen imagines that Branson feels both more at ease and less so when he is in Val Royeaux.  More at ease because he doesn’t have to lie to his family and the woman he loves and less because there are more dangers to the Divine’s life in the Grand Cathedral than in Skyhold.

Brandon leans back on the fence, letting some of that noble nature go and becoming more like a normal man, one that he had gotten glimpses of in Ostwick.  There’s even a slight slouch in his broad, straight shoulders.  “So, where in Ferelden do you live?”

And with that the family returns to the casual air it had as he approached.  Branson and Krissy entertaining their future brother-in-law with Rosalie and Krem not too far away participating in the conversation, but relishing in their new relationship.  Mia folds her arms and motions with her head for him to follow her.  He doesn’t bother excusing himself, since no one is directly talking to him.  She leads him around the back of the tavern.  “This must be serious if you want such privacy.”

“First off, how the hell did you know about Rosie and Krem?  She only just asked how I’d feel about them giving it a shot.”

He chuckles.  “I’m more observant than any of you give me credit for.  Such as, I know there are several Orlesians hanging out on the landing up near the training ring hoping to hear some sort of gossip that they can use against me.  As some sort of leverage to get me to change my stance on arranged marriages.”

“Um?  What?”

He gestures with his thumb in that direction and she catches the smallest glint of a silver mask as the sun hits it.  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“It just a part of my life now.  It’s been a part of Shea’s since she was a girl.  It comes with being the Commander of the Inquisition, Bann of Golden Grove, and future husband to the Inquisitor.  Add to that former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall and survivor of the Fifth Blight and there’s plenty for people to talk about.”

“And being the first Templar to quit and survive Lyrium addiction.”

He takes a slow deep inhale and lets it out just as slowly.  “Who told you?”

“I am also more observant than you give me credit for.  I first noticed something was going on when you and Shea visited and she sent you out of the room when she was taking hers.  But then we came here and people talk.  Whispers mostly, nothing solid.  But we were in the tavern at lunch and I heard some of your Templar troops discussing you.  They were discussing their concern, a concern they are afraid to mention to you because they fear your reaction, that you hadn’t been signing out vials like the rest of them.”  He mentally kicks himself for not thinking of Shea’s edict to keep a close track on their Lyrium stores.  Of course, his name wouldn’t be there.  It wouldn’t have been there since before the Inquisition was formed.  Any that he had taken since then was given to him by Cassandra or Bethany.  But then again that was both before Shea’s order and in an emergency so she might not have recorded it.  More importantly though, how did these former Templars notice such a thing?  As if she can read his mind, she continues.  “It was just something they noticed and it took them a while to figure it out.  Well, over a year.   Maybe more.  To be fair, I got all this from eavesdropped.  But I put the same story together based on their evidence.  You’re not taking it anymore and from their discussion, that is not only ill advised and dangerous, but unheard of.  This could kill you just as using it could, but this way is faster.  So please tell me they are wrong?  Though… based solely on your question just now, I will take that as confirmation.”

He places his hands on his hips and hangs his head.  “This stays between us?”

“I won’t worry the others unless you’ve doing something truly reckless.  I understand the risks of being a Templar.  More and more as time goes by.  We all know Templars don’t live long healthy lives.  Longer than Wardens and more likely to live until they are old and gray, but ultimately the use will kill you slowly.  From what they were saying, this should have killed you long ago.  They, and I, want to know how you’re doing it.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

She sighs, folds her arm across her chest, and leans against the wall.  “Whatever you say to me is in confidence, _unless_ you tell me something that I feel I need back up on to in order to stop you.”

He smirks despite the serious topic.  “Not to help your cause, but there’s really only one person who could do that and you know it.”

“Oh believe me, she’s the first person I’m talking to.  I trust she knows about this?”

He nods.  “Since a few days after she became Inquisitor, officially at least.  I felt it my duty to tell her and she encouraged me to continue as long as it was safe.  There was… is no way to know that.  Templars cast out from the Order and thus cut off from their supply, resort to illegal trade or theft.  Most, if at all, lose their minds and die in the streets.  Crazed and starved.  Those men are right.  I am the first known person to quit the Order and everything that entails.  I did not do it lightly and I will not go into details, but with the close eye of a Seeker and trusted mages to help when the withdrawal becomes too much for my body to handle, it appears I am extremely close to being successful.  The closest I’ve been since being forced to relapse.  Which I won’t discuss.  It is not a happy memory.  Just know that Shea, Dorian, and Cassandra are keeping a close eye on me and will force feed me if they must to keep me alive.”

“So, you’re fine?”

“I get headaches.  And sometimes it calls to me.  Literally. Lyrium has a song to those attuned to it.  Though I can still feel it lingering, I don’t think I’m in any danger of dying from lack of use anymore.”

She nods.  “Fine, but if that changes, I had better be updated.  We haven’t had you back that long and I refuse to lose you to your own stupidity.”

“Again, I didn’t do this lightly.  I wanted to be free and now I am.”

“Hmm.  Well, maybe you should consider instructing your other former Templars how to do the same?  Next topic.”

He chuckles.  “More scolding?”

She smiles.  “No.  I heard you say you and Shea were training this morning.”

“That’s correct.”

She glances over his shoulder and sighs.  “Rosalie wants to join the Chargers.”

“She what?!”

“Is it really that surprising?  She’s been thinking about it for a while now, but she’s not brave enough to ask you what you think.”

“I think it’s a horrible idea.”

“Why?”

He scoffs and begins pacing.  “There are a ton of reasons.  One, she’s never been trained to fight.  She has basic archery skills, at best.  Which she’s never used against anything more than small game near your farm.  Two, the Chargers, though part of the Inquisition, are mercenaries.  I trust Bull and know that he has some integrity, but one day, they will break apart from us as the reb… free mages have and there is no telling what she’ll be asked to do.  Three…”

She sighs.  “I tried to tell her you’d be against it.”

He looks around towards the ring.  He thinks of each Charger, of what they can do.  He’s seen them fight, he’s sparred with both Krem and Bull.  But they are warriors, not archers.  Though he has also trained archers and can spot those would are suited for it.  And archery is a lot safer than up front fighting.  “Well… I wouldn’t say that.”

“What is that look for?  Cullen?”

“I have an idea and it will actually determine my opinion on the matter.  Come along while it’s still light.”

He turns on his heel and walks right up to his sister, Mia hurrying along behind him.  She shouts before he can say anything, “I told you this was a mistake.  I dread to think what he has planned for you.”

He looks back and glares at her before turning his attention on his now frightened sister.  “Have you spoken to anyone else about this?”

She looks over at Krem and Bull who are both playing with Noah.  “No.  I wanted to see what Mia thought first, and then you.  I think Branson would be all for it seeing as he joined the Inquisition behind everyone’s back.”

“Excellent.  Come with me.”

“What?  Where are we going?”

He smirks over his shoulder as he heads towards the front of the tavern.  “To see about getting you a trainer.”  Her eyes go wide and she hurries behind him.  Mia is left leaning against the railing of the training ring, completely flabbergasted at this turn of events.  Cullen smiles as he approaches the door.  She is always there when she isn’t in the field and since they haven’t really needed her to be, she’s been one of Leliana’s envoys in her absence.  “Scout Harding.”

She salutes him and smiles.  “Commander, what can I do for you?”

“Could you grab two bows and some arrows while I get targets set up?”

“Certainly, but can I ask why you asked me and not one of your men?”

Cullen pats his sister on the back.  “This is my little sister, Rosalie, and she has a notion to join the Chargers.”

Harding looks the farm girl up and down.  “I’ve seen worse.  I’m assuming you shoot?”

“Not often, but yes.”

She nods.  “You want me to test her?”

“And train her if you think she’s got potential.  I won’t stop her from doing what she wants so long as I know she can handle herself.”

“Sounds good.”  She motions him forward and she whispers.  “Should I be training her in just archery?”

“You mean…?”  She nods.  “Heavens no.  Leliana has more Rutherfords in her service than I prefer as it is.”

“Got it.  Meet you in the valley?”

“Sounds good.”  He heads towards the barn next to the stables with Rosalie hot on his heels.

“Will you wait a minute?  I haven’t committed to anything yet.”

He comes to a dead stop in front of the gate and spins on her.  “Haven’t you?”

“What?”

“Krem.  You’ve committed to Krem.”

“Well, yeah.  But who’s to say if that’s forever?”

He chuckles.  “I have a feeling.  He will never leave Bull’s side.  I know that much for certain.  Which means choosing him means choosing that life.  The parallels here aren’t lost on me and the last thing I want is for you not to be able to defend yourself even you are just travelling with him for a short time.  Plus, I will feel a lot better if there is someone on that blasted farm who can fight off bandits now that Branson is gone.”

She smiles shyly, “So, you’re saying that you’re ok with me joining the Chargers as long as I prove I can handle myself?”

“In a nut shell, yes.”

“Greet!  Where do we start?”

He turns back to the barn and asks Dennett for a cart and horse.  Once it arrives, he makes her help him load hay bales onto it.  The whole time thinking just how similar his story is to hers.  A young boy, infatuated with Templars, with being a knight, a hero.  Leaving his only home, never seeing his parents again, and seeing things he sometimes wished he hadn’t.  Though it ultimately brought him here, his life could have been very different.  The happy, glowing child tarnished and forced to grow up long before he should.  Though she isn’t exactly the same due to her age and having a much different childhood, he worries that she is infatuated with the idea of the Chargers and has no idea what she’s truly signing up for.  She’d probably have to kill someone and anyone can tell you that haunts you.  His memories aren’t as fresh, but he can still see that mage’s face.  He knows that Shea still has nightmares about her first kill though her body count is astronomically higher now.  The last thing he wants is for her to have the same or similar mental anguish that they do.  The first thing though is to make sure she’s not going to get killed.

He gathers up the reigns and she settles in beside him.  “If this goes well, I want you to go see Dagna and Harritt.  Tell them I sent you.  I want you outfitted before you leave.  You need to get used to the weight and feel of real armor.”

“You know you’re actually moving a little too fast for me.  It was a passing idea I had when I woke up this morning.”

“But serious enough that you asked Mia her opinion.”

“To be fair, I wanted to talk to Shea about it, but you and her had already left.  Where is she by the way?”

He smirks.  He is super tempted to tell her the whole truth, but knowing his love would be angry says, “She had some work to do.  She’ll be free by dinner.”

She chuckles.  “Uh huh.  Well, next time you get finished training, maybe consider closing those great big windows.”  His face and ears burn bright red.  “Don’t worry.  I only heard it because Krem and I were walking the battlements.”

He laughs and it echoes off the walls inside the keep.  “My men are going to start thinking that’s our families go to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shea and I like to… walk to battlements.”  It is her turn to change colors.  “And given that you heard us…”

“Her.  Not you, thank the Maker.”

“I’m going to venture a guess that you two like to walk the battlements at the top of the mage tower?”

“You know this place too well.”

“It’s a good spot.  Secluded so long as the mages aren’t there.  Which there are very few now days since most of them moved back to Ferelden.  Shea and I prefer the spot between the tavern tower and the tower on the end.”

“I’m sure your men like that.”

He chuckles.  “It’s an unspoken order not to disturb us.  The first time… let’s just say if he hadn’t gotten the hint I might have thrown poor Jim from that wall.”

She laughs. “Not literally I hope.”

“Of course not.  Don’t tell him this, but Jim’s my best scout.  Likely because he has a healthy dose of fear that I might hurt him should he disobey or take too long.”

He pulls the cart to stop where Harding stands holding a quiver of arrows and two bows.  She sets them down in the snow and helps them set up the targets.  He leans against the side of the wagon to observe.  Rosalie stings the bow with little effort though she comments that is it made differently than the beat up one she has and thus her struggle.  Harding lets her loose a few arrows without saying anything.  Based on her comment, this is to let her get used to the heavier duty weapon.  He folds his arms, rubbing his biceps wishing he had thought to wear something a little warmer.  It doesn’t take long for her to adjust.  Though she is slow to draw and aim, he can tell she’s a natural.  Maybe that is a Rutherford trait, like their hair, since he and Branson both picked up on martial skills fairly quickly, but needed to be refined.  Harding provides her with a few tips, like keeping both of her eyes open and releasing after an exhale. He can already see an improvement.

A few weeks of solid training and he’d be more than happy to give her his approval once he is able to judge her battle readiness.  He continues to watch until the darkening of the sky reminds him that they have dinner plans.  He approaches and startles her.  She sends an arrow zooming high above the target.  She curses and he knows not to point out that she’ll need to work on that.  “We have dinner plans.”

“Oh right!  Don’t want to keep Shea waiting.”

He smiles and starts packing up the targets.  “Hopefully her… work… is finished.  I completely forgot to… remind her we had plans.”

“So, she’s sleeping and you forgot to go wake her up?”

“Exactly.”

They finish packing the cart and he turns to Harding.  “Would you like a ride back up?”

“Sure!  You know… since you offered.”

She climbs into the back of the cart.  The ride is silent for a little while.  “Scout Harding?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Could I ask you a personal favor?”

“A personal favor?”

He nods.  “It’s quite a lot to ask and if you were to say no, I would complete understand.”

“What is it?”

“I consider you the best archer in the Inquisition.  It’s why I’m glad you were here today.”

“Thank you, ser.”

“Would you perhaps consider going back to South Reach with them to train Rosalie?  I’m sure she’d appreciate it and I most certainly would.  I’d also feel a lot better if she wasn’t training alone.”

She ponders it for a moment.  “Charter’s here, so she could easily run things for Sister Nightingale while I’m gone.  It would also give me a chance to run out and check on how some of the Fereldan camps are holding up given the proximity to Fereldan troops that are making them extremely nervous.”

Rosalie twists in her seat to look back. “Really?  You’d come with me?”

“Sure.  I’ve been itching to get out of Skyhold for a while now.  Plus a personal favor gets repaid with a personal favor in the future.”

Cullen smiles back at her over his shoulder.  “That’s the incentive.”

She smiles.  “Then how can I say no.”

Rosalie touches his arm as he pulls the cart to a stop outside the stables.  “We’re leaving tomorrow.  Is that enough time?”

“No.  I’d love you to stay longer, but soldiers aren’t very good farmers.”

Harding scoffs as she climbs out of the back, “You can say that again.”

She heads to wherever her sleeping quarters are, which Cullen realizes he doesn’t know, which makes sense for one of Leliana’s people while he and Rosalie head to the throne room.  Branson has gone and he regrets missing his chance to bid his brother farewell.  Krissy, Noah, and Mia all stand by the entrance.  “Sorry to keep everyone waiting.”  They all follow him as he walks briskly through the room.

“You missed Branson.”

“I see that.  I’m honestly surprised we didn’t see them come down.  We weren’t that far from the keep.”  He stops with his hand on the door.  “I need to go make sure she’s ready for us.  Mind waiting here?”

“Sure.”

He pushes in the door and closes it behind him.  He bounds up the stairs.  She turns as he reaches the top.  “Hello handsome!”

He smiles brightly.  She has braided her hair in her old style, an intricate bun made of series of small braids, and she is wearing one of the dresses she bought on their trip.   It’s the first time she’s even looked at it since they got back from Val Royeaux.  Her bare feet pad across the floor and she quickly presses her lips against his.  “You’re in a good mood.”

She smiles.  “I wonder why.  A massage, great sex, a nap, two hot baths.”  She turns back to her task. 

“Could it be that you healed your sore muscles with magic?”

She chuckles.  “Guilty, but to be fair that wasn’t in your rules.”

“I suppose not.”  The couch has been pushed back to its old spot by the stair rail and replaced by a fairly large table and ten chairs.  He counts the people on his fingers.  “Why so many chairs?”

“I may have invited a few extras.  You know… extended family.”

“So, Dorian and Bull.”

“And Krem.  Word travels fast.  The other chair was for Branson.  I wasn’t expecting them to leave so quickly.”  He grabs the chair and puts it in their closet.  She raises an eyebrow at him as he adjusts the other chairs to be equidistant.

“No need to highlight it.”  She nods and continues to set the table.  “Who brought this stuff up?”

“Loads of people.  Though Bull carried the table mostly by himself.  We’ll have some time to drink and visit before dinner arrives.”

He moves to wrap his arms around her and kiss the back of her neck.  “You’ve really taken over this idea.  I figured I’d be coming up here to wake you and hurry you to get ready.”

“You’d love for me to not be prepared for a gathering just once wouldn’t you.”

“Yes.  It would make me feel better about being a poor host.”

She turns him his arms and drapes her arms around his neck, a bundle of forks still in her hand.  “I think you’ve been a great host.”

“A great host wouldn’t have left them to their own devices just to make my lover train and then… what was that phrase you used?  Fucked you silly?”

She smiles and presses up on her toes to kiss him.  She turns back around to continue setting the table.  “Well, when you think about it, you left them in the hands of some our most entertaining friends while you were away.  I think you’re juggling your responsibilities aptly.”

He strengthens his hold on her waist and gives her a squeeze before kissing the back of her neck again.  “Thank you, love.”  He steps back and heads for the stairs.  “Ready?”

“Yep.”  He goes down the stairs and pulls the door open.  “Come on up.”  Even after being confronted by Mia regarded his lack of lyrium use, he is in a fantastic mood.  He leads the family up the stairs.  He points out the little landing where Sky likes to hang out since they’ve all interacted with her.  Mia chuckles as they crest the top of the stairs.  “Of course, your armor and weapons are the first things to greet guests.”

Shea circles the table after pulling the cork out of a wine bottle.  “Where else are we supposed to put them?”  She points to the first closed door.  “That’s the closet.”  Then points to the second.  “And that’s the bathroom.  For some reason the closest has a ladder to that balcony, but I can’t figure out what to do with it.”

Mia chuckles.  “Put the armor up there.”

Shea scoffs.  “Can you honestly see us trying to rush up that ladder and then back down it in full armor should we come under attack?”

“I suppose not.”

“For now, it’s storage.  Things that just sit up there collecting dust.”

Noah wiggles out of his mother’s grasp and rushes right for her.  She scoops him up.  “So, what do you think of our room?”

“It’s as big as our house!”

She carries him to the balcony and he clings to her.  “You can see everything from up here.  See?”  She points down to the courtyard where Bull, Dorian, and Krem are headed across it from the tavern.

“It’s very high.”

She ruffles his hair.  “That’s right.  So, you have to very careful when you walk out here, understand?”

He nods and she walks to the other one.  “Not much to see but a giant mountain.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It sure is.”

She walks back in the room and sees that the fire needs another log.  “Cullen, would you mind?”  She nods to the fireplace and he smirks.

“Yes, dear.”

She smiles at the woman as they admire her furnishings.  “The table isn’t normally here, but if we want an undisturbed meal, this is where we need to be.”

“It’s hard to believe you live here.”

She smiles.  “I sometimes think I’m going to wake up from some highly detailed dream and be riding with my uncle to the Conclave.”

Cullen gets up from his knelt position in front of the fire.  “You’ve never told me that.”

She shrugs and sets Noah down.  “I have a present for you.”

“For me?”

She smiles and goes into their closest to fetch a small box.  “I didn’t have time to get what I really wanted to, so this will have to do.”

“But it’s not my birthday or nothing.”

“That’s ok.  It was mine yesterday and I’d love for you have it.”

He looks up at his mom and she nods.  He sets the wooden box on the floor and opens the lid.  He gasps and jumps up and down.  He reaches in the box and produces a toy sword and shield.  Cullen quickly goes over to him and shows him how to hold them.  He sees the familiar design and looks up at his weapon rack.  “You had these made.”

“Replicas of yours, yes.”

“They are like yours?!” Cullen goes to his shield and lifts it from its spot.  He kneels down and Noah holds his little wooden shield next to his.  “Wow!  Thanks!”

“You are very welcome.”  The bell rings and Cullen stands.

“I’ll get it.”

He puts the shield back and hurries to answer the door.  Noah takes sword in hand and starts beating up the couch.  Krissy moves to stop and Shea laughs.  “Don’t worry about it.  It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to replace that couch.”

“Should I ask?”

She looks towards the windows facing the mountains remembering when they through it out there while cleaning up after the fight with Cullen’s demon.  She shakes her head and she sighs, the scars on her back stinging slightly at the memory.  “Best not.”

Cullen and the boys come up the stairs.  Krem goes directly to stand by Rosalie, and Bull, seeing Noah’s new toys, goes right for him.  Everyone watches this while engaging in idle chatter.  Dorian sighs and both Cullen and Shea look at each other.  They resume watching but instead watch Bull instead of Noah.  He takes a shield bash to the face and pretends to fall back holding his eye.  He even groans, “Oh no!  Not my good eye!” To which everyone laughs.

Then she realizes that maybe she should talk to Dorian about the issues she’s still having.  He might not be able to feel her pain regarding the event, but that’s not what really bothers her now.  She had gotten used to the idea of being a mother.  She actually wanted children now.  And now, she can’t.  Neither could he, but for different reasons.  That’s what his face is telling her now as he glances in her direction.  A weak smile crosses his face and she returns it. 

The bell rings and the kitchen staff enters with trays of food.  They all gather around the table to eat roasted chicken with various vegetables and, Shea’s personal favorite, fresh baked bread.  Conversation flows freely and it’s easy to see why it is nice to have family around who didn’t care about politics and war, just that you are safe and happy.  And it all comes to an end much faster than she would have liked.  Little Noah has to be carried back to their rooms and she is fairly certain she saw Rosalie invite Krem back to hers.  She hopes they are happy together for as long as it lasts.  Long distance is hard and from what she knows of Rosie, there is no way she could handle travelling with the Chargers.  Though she could be wrong about that as she felt grossly unprepared when she first ventured out.  She rotates the glass in her hands.  Being slightly drunk and very happy is when she does her best logical thinking.  Not on depressing matters of course, since she wouldn’t be happy for very long, but matters of some importance.  Not quite as serious as picking between mages and templars or who should drink from the Well of Sorrows.  More reflecting on discussions she had earlier that her mind was not quite ready to process yet.  The faint green light shining into her glass and thinking about Rosalie travelling with the Chargers reminds her that she wasn’t totally trained when she left home.  She might have had the conditioning and technique, but none of the experience.  Her body changed when she started going out as the Herald.  The muscles that were chunky became leaner and vice versa.  She bulked up in places she never expected to because they were all so focused on technique with her swings during her preliminary Templar training.

He plops in the chair next to her and retrieves his own wine.  “Bell is disconnected, doors are locked, windows are closed.”

“Why’d you close the windows?”

“It’s getting colder and I think winter might arrive sooner than expected this year.  And Rosalie and Krem heard us this afternoon.”

“Ah.  Well, I suppose your family are the last people we want hearing us.  Of course, they’d be the only ones who haven’t.  I should remind you of the time we had sex on your desk.”

His chest rumbles.  “I could have murdered them for barging in.”

“Poor Jim really does get the brunt of your anger.”

He takes a sip of his wine and leans back in the chair.  “So… you were clearly thinking about something.  Care to share?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Oh?”

She leans forward and sets her wine glass down.  She takes one of his hands and traces the lines in his palm.  “While I think I need to build my base back up, I feel like I’d be better off training in the field.”

“Oh.”

“If you really break it down, that’s how it worked last time.  Because how prepared can you really be when you’re battling demons?”

He takes a sip of wine and then turns his hand to hold hers.  “Then as soon as that tree is downed and we get it to the base of the keep, then you should head back out.”

“That easy?”

“Do I want you to go?  Never.  Do I know that you need to?  Yes.  There really isn’t much you can do here as evident by the fact that I was able to do it all for you in addition to my own work in preparation for your party.  The people need you out there.  Defending them from the remnants of Corypheus’s forces and closing those rifts as only you can.”

She reaches out to run her finger down his lip scar.  “One day, once I’ve closed all these damn rifts for good, maybe… just maybe… we can retire to that lake in Ferelden.  Build a little house, or improve on the cabin there.  Do nothing but fend for ourselves and fuck until we can’t see.”

He smiles.  “As much as I would love that, you know you’d hate it.  You may pretend to like solitude, but your close friendships with your travelling companions says otherwise.”

“What does it say exactly?”

“You are social butterfly, love.  You need people other than me to interact with or you’ll get bored.”

She smirks.  “That’s where the fucking comes in.”

“Oh, I see.  Doesn’t negate my argument, but I will concede your point.”

“Alright fine.  So maybe we move to a city somewhere?  We’ve got loads of options.  The obvious choices seem to be South Reach and Golden Grove.”

“Hmm.  There’s plenty of time to think about that.”

She takes a swallow of her wine.  “One thing to think about is what we’re going to do beside playing chess and having sex all day.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.  Unless you’re trying to lead this somewhere?”

She shrugs.  “Not really, just thinking about stuff.”  She cups his jaw and stokes his cheek.  “You look tired.”

“I am.”

“Then let’s get this cleaned up as much as we can so you can get some rest.”

She scratches the scuff on along his jaw before pushing her chair back.  He sips is wine and watches her gather plates, scrapping food onto one and stacking the rest.  He is transported to this future she just mentioned.  A simple life with just the two of them.  Maybe a dog or two and some live stock, which he’s responsible for since she’s only ever tended horses and even that was casual.  He sighs picturing a house, much like Mia’s in South Reach, maybe even built by his own hands.  He feels a little wistful that he’s had to amend this fantasy since it has been confirmed that the Anchor prevents her from carrying a child to term.  But watching her now, picturing their life together, he thinks he’s ok with that.  As long as she is happy and healthy and his, he’d be just fine.  She looks over at him and smiles.  He returns it and then chuckles when her eyes scan the table and the return to him.  He downs the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the table.  He pushes his chair back and stands.  He gathers utensils and napkins.  She sets the stack beside the main platters and presses her palms into the table.

He knows that look as it has become all too familiar to him. He sets everything beside her stack of plates and places his hand over her marked one, drowning out the faint green light that is constantly shining from it.  It seems she has had the same thought as he, imagining their life together, with one element missing.  He moves to stand behind her and wraps his other arm tightly around her ribs.  He press his lips and nose to the crook of her neck.  She trembles slightly and covers her mouth with her free hand.  Crying and an apology was next.  To which he’d soothe her and tell her she had nothing to apologize for.  He slips his fingers under her hand and squeezes.  She gently squeezes back before quickly shaking her head and clearing her throat.  She shifts in his grasp and presses up on her toes to kiss his nose.  “To bed with you.”

He’s taken aback by the sudden shift.  She pushes against his chest and he steps back still holding her hand.  “Are you coming with me?”

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep, but I’m far too awake to sleep now.  What with having a nap and a lively dinner.”

“Then maybe I should stay up with you?”

She smiles and pushes him back a few steps.  “Nonsense.  It has been a long day and you need to rest while your mind and body will allow it.”  She knows him too well.  Sleep is a commodity that he doesn’t often get due to the ever lingering withdrawal.  The nightmares from his tormented past have stopped bothering him since she has been regularly sleeping beside him.  She shoves him towards their closet.  “Change.”

He smirks.  “Is that an order, Inquisitor?”

“Does it need to be?”

His smile broadens and his head shakes as he trudges through the door.  He doesn’t like the idea of her leaving him after he drifts off, but there are few activities in the room that she could do that wouldn’t disturb him as he is a light sleeper most nights.  He pulls on a pair loose and low fitting pants, tying them just enough to keep them from falling off.  He shuffles his bare feet against the stone floor and finds that she is standing next to the bed, holding the covers up.  He gives her a quick kiss before sliding beneath them.  She pulls the covers over him and moves around it to sit with her back against the headboard.  He turns his head on the pillow towards her and she runs her fingers through his hair.  “Talk to me?”

She smiles softly.  “Now, you know if I talk to you while you drift off that you won’t be able to fall asleep.”

“Humor me?”

She leans her head back and looks down at him.  His eye lids have already started to droop.  She periodically runs her fingers along his scalp.  “Oh, alright.”

His scar twitches as the tired smile creeps onto his face.  “What do you plan on doing tonight?”

She shrugs.  “Hard to say.  Wander the grounds.  Read the reports you’ve been hiding form me.”

“Not hiding, simply removing them from sight.”

“So, where are they?”

He sighs and settles further into the bed.  He stifles a yawn with the back of his hand.  “War Room, mostly.  Since they largely contain the location of rifts.  A few are in my office.”

“Which ones?”

“The ones pertaining to Ferelden troop movements.”

She nods.  “I trust those are also marked on the map?”

“Of course.  I’m not an idiot.”

 She stifles a laugh knowing it would pull him back fully into that waking world, wondered what the hell as so funny.  So instead she hums her agreement and watches his eyes flutter closed.  She gives it a few moments and his soft snores begin to drift from his slightly parted lips.  She gently pulls her knees to her chest to rest her chin on top of them.  She watches him sleep for a while, not really sure how much time has passed.  Though it clearly doesn’t matter since she’s wide awake anyway and there’s very little she can do except let the time pass and hope she can get some rest in before they resume her training.  She has to admit though that her insomnia is her own damn fault.  She allowed herself to stay in bed and sleep during the day which completely threw off her sleep schedule.  It’s the only reason she can think of as the reason she’s had countless days to do what she is doing now.  Watching him sleep.  Wondering what he’s dreaming about when his eyes start to move behind his lids.  Waking him if it turned into a nightmare.  She hasn’t talked to him about them, but she has a strong feeling that the ones he’s having now, have little to do with the past.  Yet even then they are less frequent.

The thing that worries her is that his symptoms haven’t reared their head in a while, at least not to her recollection, which is also admittedly her fault.  The past few days have made it all too apparent how selfish she’s been.  And she knows he doesn’t blame her for that.  She shakes her head and slowly slides off the bed.  He stirs slightly.  His hand sliding over to feel beside him, searching for her.  It tugs at her heartstrings as she wonders how often he did that when she was gone.  She moves as quickly and as softly as she can from the room, snagging his mantle off the rack before going down the stairs.  She wraps it around herself.  The theme of her thoughts that take her over every time she’s alone with her own mind for too long lead her to believe that she might need some help.  Someone she could talk to who has maybe gone through a similar ordeal and could help her… not move on so much as not be over powered by this pit of despair that seems to threaten to swallow her up.

Skyhold is quiet and darkened at this hour.  Only the soft sound of boots on stone of the soldiers on patrol and the crackle of fire dimly burning in braziers.  Only bright enough to provide those soldiers with light to see.  She pauses at her throne.  The sharp points that surround it still hold the polish of the first day she saw it.  Though she doubts that it just stayed that way.  Skyhold is very dusty and with as little use as she’s been getting out of the chair lately, she knows for certain that Josephine has had her people cleaning it.  Polishing the metal so fire and sunlight reflect off of it no matter how dim the room is.  She trails her fingers along the armrest as she turns to walk down the center of the empty throne room.  She pulls his cloak more tightly around her, the soft fur, which smells strongly of him, covers most of her face.  If she had to pick her favorite time of day to be in this room it is this one.

He is wrong about her need to be social, and she’s not surprised he thinks that about her since she plays the part of noblewoman and Inquisitor well.  The thing he seems to forget about her youth, which is a strange thought to have when she has only just turned 22, is that she was groomed to be a warrior, more specifically a templar.  Her parents didn’t broker friendships for her as they did her brothers.  They had an heir and a spare, what use did they really have to even humor the idea of marrying her off?  Any noble “friends” she had were not truly hers.  The only true friend she had then was Moira and she had had 16 years of virtual solitude before that.  But maybe that is being a bit dramatic.  She was never truly alone any more than she never really had friends.  Until now that is.

Sure, most of the people she met being the Inquisitor were not friends, but her travel companions, and she hopes her advisors, are the ones she had truly gotten to know, to trust, to love.  Sure, at least half of them are scattered across Thedas at this moment, but she’d get the occasional letter from asking advice or just updating her on the state of their lives at present.

Rainer writes frequently as if it were not just part of his penance but as if he misses her and values her advice above all others since she gave him this chance to atone.  Even Vivienne writes from time to time to check on things, to ask if she is needed, or if Shea has anything she needs done in Orlais.  Varric, naturally writes the most, though his letters have become less frequent in the past few months, likely because the dwarf is at a loss for words.  They all are.  Though she knows her friends care deeply for her, they just don’t know how to handle this type of loss.  It has changed her more than the Nightmare ever could.  Cole asked her at the party when Cullen was out of ear shot if she wouldn’t prefer to actually forget.  He just wanted to help and didn’t know how.  No one did.  She doesn’t blame them for their distance.  She has regrets regarding how she handled it, but the lie has gone on too long.  It might anger them and push them even further away if they knew the truth.

Further away.  Her feet move before her mind registers it.  Before she knows it, she stands in the center of the dusty rotunda.  Well, the desk is dusty, Josephine made sure the room itself is cleaned regularly and carefully.  She didn’t even realize that she missed the elf as much as she does.  Her Fade expert who could have answered so many questions she had.  Questions that only open the wounds she is fighting to close.  Answers she feels would help her immensely.  She runs the finger along the edge of the desk, thick gray dust collecting under it as she goes.  She looks up at his paintings, the artistic representations of her choices and trials as Inquisitor.  Looking up at the last one, clearly finished quickly and with far less color, she never could figure out what it was meant to depict.  No matter how long she and Moira stared at it after the battle before the elf returned north.  She only knew that it was done before they left to fight Corypheus, so this was more prediction than documentation like the rest of them.

“Solas.  Where are you when I need you?”

She shakes her head and turns from the room.  There are no answers there and it is doubtful she’d ever find what she is looking for.  She passes back through the throne room and quickly breaches the doors to Josephine’s office.  The office has nothing more than a few embers to light the way, but she knows it all too well.  She walks through the star filled, chilly hallway, why no one has fixed this wall she will never know.  She opens the large door just enough to slip inside.  It has been a long time since she’s set foot in the War Room.  Longer than any self-respecting leader should.  But by the look of the stacks of reports and the markers on the map, she can tell the world hasn’t fallen to pieces without her, which bods well for her eventual retirement in the distant future.  There is a stack of papers sitting in the center of her side of the table.  Well, her customary spot.  Likely things her advisors think require her direct attention.

She scoops them up and reads as she paces the room.  They are all results from Cullen’s actions on her behalf.  Rift confirmations mostly with a smattering of answered requests for aid.  She sees that he has already placed the rift markers on the board and stationed his men in those areas to help keep the demons at bay.  Despite the resurgence, there are no reported rift related deaths, for which she is grateful.  The last report in the pile takes her mind back to the rotunda. Her dear fiancé has made a renewed effort to locate Solas.  The orders are not to disturb him, wherever he is, just to locate and deliver a letter that is to remain sealed.  These orders also detail a priority to locate more of the elven devices that strengthened the veil so that they can stabilize these areas where rifts just keep opening after they are closed.

She sighs and sets the stack down.  Was she reduced to nothing more than a slightly useful figurehead?  That was not his intention she is sure of that, but he has been successfully doing her job for months.  The only thing left for her to do is go out in the field and follow through.  Looking down at the war table, she notices a few things that bother her more than a little bit. 

One, there are more Fereldan troops on the map than she is comfortable with, especially since both Alistair and Danielle said they were going to back off for the foreseeable future due to their loss.  But it appears the opposite of that is true.   Every camp they have east of the Frostbacks has at least two markers near it.  She wishes she could remember what his system is for that.  Even the small camps had troops near them.  Not close enough to be an obvious threat, but close enough to attack should the order be given.  Cullen, or possibly Leliana has strengthened their hidden presence, if she has to guess based on what she’s picked up in the nearly two years she’s watched them work, she would say that putting Cullen’s men out there could be seen as a sign of war, but Leliana’s spies could hide in plain sight while also being ready to defend the camps should it come to that.  Cullen has focused his men to the keeps.  She knows this is a counter point to the appearance of normality at the camps.  A statement of strength pretty much without spreading them out.

The second is that the room is green.  Her mark is glowing brighter than it has in a long while and is the only light source in the room save the moonlight coming in through the windows.  There is no pain, just light.  Which only adds to the ominous, time consuming trip that looms in her future.  The rifts are not as close together as they had been before.  It is going to take a long time to make any head way and there is no point in doing it if she couldn’t keep them closed.  Her eyes scan the map and sees that the Hinterlands are completely devoid of rifts.  The devices are clearly doing their jobs.

Which means the third point of concern is actually finding them and making sure they work. Maybe she could get Dagna to look into it, assisted by a mage, Dorian perhaps?  Have a few for each region ready and waiting before she got there.  Her part of that project would be deciding where they needed to be placed to be the most beneficial.

She recalls that Solas had been keeping a notes on these devices and it is the closest thing she is going to get to finding an expert.  She quickly spins and leaves the room, heading right back to the rotunda.  She first cleans the desk and chair of dust.  Organizing his abandoned books, pages, and research.  She plops down in his old chair and starts flipping through the pages of one of his journals.  Her head turns slightly at the sound of footsteps on the wood above her.  She looks up just in time to see Dorian lean over the railing.  “For a moment, I thought he’d returned.”

“Nope.  Just me.”

“Felt like doing a little late night cleaning?”

“And reading.”

“Oh really?”  He pushes off the railing and appears in the stone archway moments later.  “Do tell.”

She nods to the crumbled pages in his hand.  “What’s that?”

He waves them in the air as if they were on fire.  “Oh, just some correspondence from Tevinter.  Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

“Are they asking you to come back?”

He shakes his head and rests his arm on the back of the chair, leaning on it and looking down at her.  “Not yet.  Though I probably should, shouldn’t I?  Can’t exactly change things from afar.”

“Well, just so you know, I’ll miss you greatly when you go.”

“Naturally.”  They smile at each other and he nods towards the open journal, a drawing of the orb like device that they found to stabilize the Veil.  “Trying to locate more?”

“Or figure out how to do it.  He was always able to just feel where they were.  Said once they reacted to his elven blood and magic.”

“Your magic is elven in origin is it not?”

“Please.  Being half elf doesn’t mean I’m tied to the,” she uses air quotes, “Ancient elvhen magic.”

“Still though.  That orb made you a mage using ancient elvhen magic.  I’m sure that plays a role in this.”

“Yes, but my scouts won’t have that kind of access.  If we want to close rifts and not have to just go back to close it again later, then we need to find and prep as many as we can.”

“Hmm.”  He smooths out his mustache.  “So, you’re trying to figure out a more efficient way to locate them?”

“It would be far easier to create them.  I highly doubt there are just hundreds of those hanging about.”

He nods.  “Now, that’s an idea.  I would think that would require a functional one to dissect.”

“Yep and that likely means creating another rift once we remove it.”

He leans on the desk and folds one arm across his chest and bringing the hand of the other the stroke his moustache.  “Where do you think the safest place to do that would be?”

She leans back in the chair.  The image of Dorian leaning on the desk reminds her of her longer talks with Solas. He’d sit in his chair and she’d lean or sit on the edge of his desk.  Even the way she leans back to look up at him to process his question reminds her of the elf as he would do the exact same thing.  Guess this makes her the resident Fade expert now.  She smiles to herself.  “I would need to refer to the reports to see where most of the devices are situated.  My gut tells me the Hinterlands.  For some reason, I think we found most of them there.  It is possible I’m wrong though.  Solas’ notes should say for sure.”

“So, if we use one of those, then maybe we can avoid more rifts since there are already some in the area?”

“Possibly.  I’m sure these things have a range on them.  Might be beneficial to figure that out as well.”

She flips through the pages of the journal in her hands.  Glancing through it, she can see several passages written in elven.  Which likely meant they are private observations that he doesn’t want someone to easily decipher should someone read it.  So, instead of easily translating them, she moves past them.  She has no desire to invade his privacy.  “I wanted to say…”  She looks up at him, having almost forgotten he was there.  Which again reminds her of Solas as he did that to her quite often.  “Thank you.”

“Thank you?  What for?”

He chuckles.  “More things than I could possibly name.  But for including me… us… in your family dinner tonight.”  He looks away from her, his eyes cast down towards the floor.  “It might not seem like a big gesture to you, but it is to me.”

She snaps the journal closed and quickly stands.  “Dorian.”  Her voice is soft, tender.  It causes him to look at her.  She smiles weakly and touches his bare shoulder.  Her middle finger rubs a tiny circle on his skin.  “Regardless of the state of things in Minrathous, or Ostwick, or Skyhold, or Thedas in general, you are my family.  More so than even my own brother.”

“It hasn’t gone unnoticed that there is bad blood there.”

“Yes, well, let’s just say my brothers weren’t the best people, but he’s at least trying to be a better person.  Emeric was beyond helping I think.  Honestly, if I had any choice, I’d probably cut all ties.  But that’s not the point.  The point is that I love you and to me you are family.  So, consider it an open invitation.”

He smirks and pulls her into a hug.  “You may live to regret those words.”

“Never.”  She feels him sigh in her arms and through she already suspected, now she knows.  He doesn’t want to leave and yet there are people writing him, telling him about the problems they face and that they need his assistance.  And how can she blame him for not wanting to refuse them?  He’s already said to her that she’s inspired him to strive for actual change in Tevinter.  The only way to do that is to be there.  So, if he needs to leave, as much as she’d miss him, she’d provide him the encouragement he needs to actually go.  “Dorian… if you need to…”

“Hush now.  We’ve got work to do yet.”  He kisses the top of her head and pulls back.  “The troubles with the Imperium aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.  And neither am I.”

She smiles weakly, suspecting that he’s lying to both of them.  But it won’t be long know.  Honestly, she is surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.  The way he spoke in the days following Corypheus’s defeat made it sound like he needed to go back sooner rather than later.  Not that she isn’t happy he is here.  But it is like waiting for a bomb to go off.  She knows it is coming, but she just isn’t entirely sure when.  “If you insist, Lord Pavus.”

He smiles and pats her arm before turning to leave the rotunda, likely headed for bed.  She slumps down in the chair again and opts to distract herself from that impending goodbye with studying Solas’ notes on the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED August 2, 2018


	29. She's a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! I've got three fics in progress and they are fighting for focus. I'm trying to rotate between them now, so we'll see if these posts become more frequent. Fingers crossed!

They sit side by side at the base of the keep, breathing heavily on top of the tree that took two weeks to fell and an additional week and a half to actually get the monstrous thing back.  He honestly has no idea what to do with it since he never actually planned on continuing this plan further than a few days.  But she was determined to perform the task he had set out for her.  Sweat is dripping from them despite the biting wind that is passing through the valley.  They both look at each other and neither of them can find the energy required to move much less walk up the ramp of the keep, across the bridge, and up all those stairs.  But they’d have to eventually and once she is recovered from the exertion put forth to complete this task, she is off to the Emerald Graves to reconfigure the artifacts there since low population and four active devices made it a good place to start.

She sighs and slumps forward.  “Whose bright idea was it to carry a full-sized tree down a mountain and all the way back here without assistance?”

He chuckles softly.  “I think you know the answer to that.”

“That I do.”

“I’m just glad I decided to wave my no magic rule towards the end there.”

“You and me both.”

He places his hand lightly on her back.  “The only down side I see is that now, you’re going to leave.”

She looks at him over her shoulder. “I’m going to need time to recover from this torture you’ve put us through.”

“My point still stands.  We made an agreement.”

She straightens a bit, stretching and groaning as she does.  “So… still opposed to using magic?”

“For?”

“Recovery.”

“So that you can leave faster?”

She laughs.  “I meant for you.  Then you could carry me to our room.”

“Uh huh.  Put more work on me then.”

She smiles and summons her magic.  She briefly passes her hands over him, then her, healing them just enough to get them moving.  She slides off the tree and stands.  He does the same.  They lace their fingers together and walk in silence up the spiral ramp.  It’s already fairly late when they finally make it to the courtyard.  Seeing Jim waiting at the gate makes them both more than a little concerned.  He nods to her to keep going. “I’ll catch up.”

She nods sharply and continues up the stairs.  Jim salutes and instantly apologizes. “I’m so sorry if I interrupted anything.”

“Not all, Jim.  I’m assuming something important has happened?”

He nods and holds out a piece of paper.  Cullen begins reading as Jim shifts uncomfortably. Cullen’s eyes begin to fly down the page as he recognizes the script.

_Commander,_

_I don’t know how your people managed to find me when I have managed to maintain my privacy and distance from even the most skilled spies.  I won’t be here by the time you receive this letter and you are not likely to find me again.  I would also ask that you stop trying since I am at least acknowledging your letter.  I know you understand and respect that I want to live my own quiet life and to distance myself from the very public life I had come to live while with the Inquisition since you had them nail this to a tree instead of approaching me directly, which I appreciate.  I would also appreciate it if you kept this all to yourself.  That you reached me, where I was when you reached me, because despite how much I respect her, it is my life to live, is it not?_

_I am sorry to hear that the Inquisitor is not doing well.  I had hoped her life would have gotten easier since she defeated Corypheus.  The spirits still whisper about her every now and again and I try my best to mind my own business.  But, to answer one of your questions at least a little in directly, from what I know of the Anchor, I am not be completely surprised by these events.  It has tried to kill her multiple times already, I’ll remind you, and as much as you will hate to hear this, I firmly believe that one day it will do so again.  And without closing the breach to stabilize it as it had before, I have no idea what might stop it from succeeding._

_So, Morrigan was right.  Magic wouldn’t have hurt your child as mages beyond counting have had children for centuries.  It was the Anchor’s magic that sealed your son’s fate.  Only if it remained utterly calm the whole time, no flares or use, do I see a pregnancy ever being brought to term.  I’m truly sorry to have to say that, and it is only my best guess.  But you asked my opinion, so there it is._

_As far as the rifts reopening, I would hypothesize that those are areas where the Veil is particularly thin.  Where spirits and demons alike press against it to get a better look at this world or where a great many people died at one time, like during a battle or maybe victims of the Blight since a large portion of your confirmed list seems to be in Ferelden.  If she hasn’t found it already, I left my notes for her at my old desk in the rotunda.  There are instructions for how to better locate the artifacts to the best of my knowledge at least and possibly how to create them.  Experimentation may be required as my plans have not been tested, but if it is tuned into the Anchor, she should be able to sense the Veil’s strength after it is activated.  Again, all of this is in the notebook I left behind._

_That is the best I can do to assist you.  I hope she finds the answers she needs in it or in the Fade.  I find that it is the best place to figure things out.  The spirits will help her if she seeks their aid._

_Dareth shiral, ma falon._

_Solas_

He shakes his head and folds the letter.  He turns his gaze on Jim.  “Who found him?”

“One of the Dalish scouts we have in the Dales.  He was under the impression that he let him find him.”

He rubs his chin while looking at the folded and nearly pristine paper in his hand.  Could he really blame Solas for wanting to be alone?  For wanting to be as far away from this life as possible.  To be able to live the life he wanted before Thedas was launched into turmoil at the Conclave.  He nods sharply.  He would honor his wishes and would figure out how to get this information to her.  He holds the letter out to Jim, and the scout takes it.  “Erase all evidence of this mission.  I want any and all reports or correspondence burned and let anyone who needs to know that this never happened.  Understood?”

The scout bends at the waist and presses his fist to his chest.  “Yes, ser.”

“Good.  Also, send the order to start preparations, particularly in Ferelden, for the Inquisitor’s pending travel.  I want the camps fully supplied and ready before she leaves Skyhold.”

Jim smirks slightly.  “So, activate your standing order then?”

He can’t help but smile back at him.  “Yes.  As usual, she should want for nothing when she gets to a camp.  She should feel safe and relaxed, particularly with this tense business with Ferelden.”

“The camps are prepared for anything, Commander.”

“Thank you, Jim.  That’ll be all.”  Jim salutes and the men part ways.  Cullen heads up the stairs to meet Shea in their quarters.  He pauses in front of the fireplace in the throne room and looks towards the door that leads to the rotunda.  Maybe he could just go get the notes himself and say he happened upon them on the way back from his office.  Satisfied with the excuse, he turns to walk through the doors.  He chuckles when he finds her seated at the desk with a book in her hands.  “Going through Solas’ belongings then?”

She nearly jumps out of her skin and the book clatters to the floor.  “Maker!  How the hell did you know I was in here?”

He surges forward and scoops the book off the ground.  She places her hand over her beating heart as she settles back into the chair.  He flips to the front page and smirks, trying not to laugh at her startled reaction.  “I didn’t.  I simply got the idea to see if Solas left anything useful and here you are.”

She points to the book in his hands.  “As far as we can tell, that’s the only thing we can use.”

“We?”

“Me and Dorian.”

He chuckles.  “Should have guessed.”  He points to some elven words on the page and holds it out to her.  “What does that say?”

She looks at the page.  “Ma falon?  It means my friend.  Wait…”  She grabs the book from him.  She had completely skipped this page since she assumed this part of the journal was private.  “Holy shit.  It’s a letter.  To me by the looks of it.  I had assumed…”  She trails off as she reads.

“What’s he have to say?”

She looks up at him.  He has the softest look on his face.  One that says to her that he has a feeling this is hard for her and that he is there for her if she needs him.  “Should I read it?”

“If you like.”

She reaches forward and pats the empty spot near the edge of the desk.  It’s the only such spot save the middle where a book would usually sit while being read.  As if the elf purposefully kept it clear for someone to lean against without disturbing his belongings.  And he knows it was for her, since he had seen her in that very position on many occasions when he was passing through to get to the War Room in their early days at Skyhold.  He leans against the spot and folds his arms watching as she turns her attention back to the page.  “My friend.  Making the decision to leave after the final battle was not an easy one.  I debated for some time if I should stick around, like I’m sure the rest of your companions did, but ultimately, it just feels like the right time.  I have no doubt in my mind that you will be victorious and that there will so many joyous things for you that my absence with hardly be noticed.  I’m leaving this journal behind so that should you think of something that you have questions about regarding my projects with the Inquisition you might find the answer you seek within these pages.  Everything I have written is free to share, but I feel it will be fairly obvious which ones are for your eyes only.  It will be up to you if you wish to share those as well.  I will end this by saying thank you.  You have helped me see the world with new eyes and I now know what I am meant to do.  Be well, my friend.  Solas.”

He watches and waits for her to process the words.  He knew they were closer than they appeared due in large part to his practically secret friendship he shared with the elf.  The somewhat heated debates regarding mages and the healthy and sometimes unhealthy relationship to the Fade, the merits and wrongs of Tranquility and Harrowings.  They were had with nothing but respect despite the potential for anger and hatred that usually surfaced between Templar and apostate.  And though he was slow to trust the elf, ultimately he had been happy that he was there and even went as far as calling him friend when it was all said and done.  If he felt that way, he is certain that she feels a little more sadness since she has said that her companions are like family, most of them anyway.  He can’t see her calling Vivienne her sister.  He watches her eyes scanning the page a few more times before she gently closes it and looks up at him.  “So… I suppose I have more reading to do.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to get a little rest before we start to plan your route?”

She smirks.  “Depends on what you mean by rest.”

He shoves away from the desk and holds out his hand.  “I think you know exactly what I mean by that.”

She tucks the journal under her arm and laces her fingers in his outstretched hand.  “Lead the way.”

***

He runs his fingers across her familiar script.  It’s funny how easily they’ve slipped back into their old ways.  Writing love notes to each other and slipping them into reports.  This particular one is telling him about the feeling of going back in time, before Haven and Corypheus, where she would have to sneak around behind Cassandra’s back just to get a message to him and they were running from bears in the Hinterlands.  They are currently in the Dales, just defeated a pack of great bears, which are bigger than Hinterland bears and hardly ever travel in groups.  Iron Bull lamenting on their days of dragon hunting and the one they took down not far from where they are camped.

He sighs in a mix of contentedness and longing.  He misses her more with each passing day, but he’s used to that by now.  Being left behind while she goes off to save the world.  And though it’s been this way since the beginning, he can’t help but feel that distance more than ever since they’ve spent nearly every day together since she returned from the ruins of Haven, victorious and alive.  It’s a dull ache now that she’s been gone a few weeks.  He tries not to count the days between reports, knowing they take time to get to him and if she had dire need to get word to him fast, she had Sky.

He drums his fingers on the desk on either side of the page.  If he had to make an assumption, based on the information available to him, he gets the distinct impression that she is happy.  Happy to be out of Skyhold and in her element again.  Wearing her armor, carrying an axe that she discovered doubled as a staff during this great bear fight, being with Bull, Dorian, and Sera saving lives and closing rifts.  He imagines that she’s laughed more in the past few days than she has in months and though the distance between them makes him feel sad and lonely, he takes more than a little joy in the very idea of her being truly happy and enjoying herself, hopefully thinking about him as much as he thinks of her.

A knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts.  He clears his throat and gives them permission to enter.  Jim salutes with one hand, holding the stack of paper in the other.  “I’ve got the latest delivery of reports, Commander.”

“Excellent!”  Jim places the stack in his out stretched hand.  “How long has it been since the last delivery?”

He counts on his fingers for a moment.  “Well, it is the first of Harvestmere, so… 2 weeks?”

“Really?  That long?  They must have found something to keep themselves busy if it took them 2 weeks to reach a camp.”

“I suppose so.  Need anything else, ser?  Something to eat maybe?”

He smiles and shakes his head.  “She wrote to you personally I take it?”

“Yes, ser.  Wanted to make sure you were eating properly.”

He gestures to the empty plate on his desk.  “You may inform Inquisitor Trevelyan that her Commander is taking care of himself.”

He scratches the back of his hand.  “Should I really do that…?”

Cullen laughs.  “No, Jim.  Just… I’m fine.  I’ve eaten.  You may go.”

“Thank you, ser.”  He salutes and rushes from the room pulling the door closed behind him.  Cullen drops the stack on his desk and plops down in his chair.  He shakes his head and smiles at the empty plate.  It isn’t the first time she’s asked Jim to take care of him in her absence and it warms his heart to think that even after all this time she still cares enough to do that.  He thumbs through the reports, all of them the standard progress reports and the occasional report of Fereldan troop movements.  He is looking for her letter, which is his customary practice now.  He looks though the stack and his brows furrow.  There isn’t one.  He frantically goes through the stack again and spots writing on the back on a report.  He pulls it out a sets it aside, but still finds no letter from her.  His heart settles in his throat, anxiety and concern in equal measure clouding his vision.  She wrote Jim, but not him?  Why?

He snatches up the paper he set aside and hungrily devours the words.

_Cullen,_

_If she knew I was writing this, she would be furious.  So, I had Sera steal this report from the stack she is supposed to send and am writing this in the dark while pretending to relieve myself.  Sorry.  That’s probably not something you needed to know._

_She’s been having nightmares for the past few days and now she refuses to sleep.  Whatever is greeting her in the Fade seems to be worse for her than the dangers of fighting demons without rest.  Even now, she stalks the edges of the camp while the others sleep.  The only thing I know for certain is that she wants to make it back to Skyhold before the anniversary.  I believe she wrote a letter to Josie detailing an idea she had about having some sort of banquet at Skyhold and a ceremony of some sort at Haven.  Some diplomatic idea to bring the rulers of Orlais and Ferelden together to show them Skyhold and that the Inquisition isn’t a threat.  She seems fixated on it actually.  She even wants Leliana to come in her official divine capacity._

_Whatever this nightmare is, as she has refused to talk about it even to me, it has spurred a desire for peace more than her desire to strengthen the veil.  I’m not sure what you can do to help.  But I thought you should know. I am aware that this news will only cause you to worry until our return, but maybe you can come up with something that might ease her mind._

_But I would appreciate it if you didn’t give it away that I’m the one who told you. I have no desire to be murdered._

_Sincerely,_

_Dorian_

He takes a moment to process what he has just read, quieting his panicking mind so that he can think straight.  When he has nightmares, the one thing he needs is her.  She soothes his mind enough for him to sleep somewhat peacefully.  He wonders if she would benefit from his presence in the field.  He actually likes this diplomatic idea of hers.  The Inquisition has nothing to hide, though it makes him nervous having so many important people under one roof.  The last time that happened, Corypheus blew it sky high.  It would make him feel better if he pulled some of his men from the field to beef up security at Skyhold, but that might send the wrong message.  He needs to talk to Josie about that.  But what ruse could he use to leave and meet her in the field without giving their actions away?  He can only think of two people who were still in Skyhold who might be able to help him.

He scoops up the fresh stack of reports and heads towards the War room.  He spots Jim leaning on the bridge that leads to the rotunda.  “Jim!  Perfect!”

He snaps to attention and salutes.  “Did you need me, ser?”

“Yes.  Could you summon Cassandra to the War Room?”

“Yes, ser.  What reason should I give her?”

“Last minute plans for a diplomatic outreach that the Inquisitor has suggested.  As Seneschal, her help will be vitally important in making sure these plans succeed.”

“Ser.”  The scout salutes and rushes down the side stairs as Cullen continues his path to Josie’s office. 

He is starting to surprise himself with how easy it is to fib about things.  He’s never had a good poker face.  Something in his expression always gave him away.  People gathered in the throne room part so he may pass.  They have become accustomed to him rushing through with an armful of papers.  It used to cause alarm, but now they’ve learned it is just the way he walks when he is on a mission.  He doesn’t even have to slow his speed as the throngs part before him.  Josie starts when he opens the door a little too forcefully.

“Apologies, Ambassador.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Commander.  It’s fine.  Are you here about the Inquisitor’s idea about a gathering?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a mind reader.”  She smiles.  “I’ve sent for Cassandra.  I thought we could use her assistance on making this happen.”

“An excellent idea.  I am curious as to the response we will receive from King Alistair.  It is my understanding that the queen is off on Grey Warden business again.  Trying to cure the Calling.  Some rumors in Ferelden are saying that she was never really in Ferelden when Shea was there.  It would seem some mages, particularly those who were in Kinloch with her, those who are still alive anyway, are circulating that she lived there before her conscription.  We’ll see what kind of impact that will have since those in power have tried desperately to bury this fact.”

He rubs his chin.  “I’m not a diplomat.  But what if we encourage it?”

Josie moves to walk with him towards the war room.  “I see the wheels turning in your head, Commander.  What are you thinking?”

“Well, not that my goal who be to harm my country, but if there were actual proof, which I might be able to get my hands on using old connections or possibly a brief trip back to Kinloch, it might take some heat off of the Inquisition.  Though the Divine has freed mages all over Thedas, people still have strong feelings about mages being in positions of power like this.  In fact, this gives me an idea about Leliana’s Right Hand, but I’ll will address that to her.  In any case, if I were to provide proof that Danielle Amell lived and trained in the Circle, then it would prove that she is a mage and queen.  Again, I’m no diplomat, but it might destabilize Ferelden enough to pull back.  Protect the throne and whatnot.  You know how we Fereldan are.”

She folds her arms and stares at the markers he has placed on the war table map.  Their camps.  The Fereldan forces positioned so close.  It has made everyone nervous since her trip and this would definitely put a chink in the strong front Ferelden seems to have.  “It is… a sound idea.  I don’t like the idea of using her mage status for the purpose of protecting ourselves, but with the way Alistair behaved towards the mages in Redcliffe and the fact that Ferelden was the central location for the Mage/Templar war, this would definitely give them pause.  The downside is that it might force her to return from her trip, a trip that has noble intentions.  Intentions which one assumes would result in a long reign for them, if she is successful.  And from what I’ve heard, they might actually succeed in producing an heir.”

He nods.  “I would not wish that failure upon them.”

Josie pats his arm.  “The other downside is that it might back fire should this revelation be traced back to us.”

He smirks.  “Oh, I have an idea on that.”

 Cassandra presses the door closed.  “An idea on what?”

“Revealing the Fereldan Queen’s mage status.”

She tilts her head at Josie.  “Why would you suggest that?”

Josie motions to Cullen.  “It was actually Cullen’s idea.”

“Again.  Why?”

“To give Ferelden pause.  If I know them, and I’m fairly sure I do, they will close ranks around Alistair.  To protect him.  He has the love of the people and the Bannorn.  They will want to protect him from those who might want to over throw him.  Because despite that love, the fighting was focused on their land.  Fereldan people have a complicated opinion on mages.”

She nods.  “It’s risky, but it could work.  So long as it isn’t traced back to us.”

Josie nods.  “Right.  Because then it would seem like a desperate attempt to throw the country into chaos.”

“Right.  And that’s is not a message we want to send.”

He scoffs.  “I am smarter than that.  Give me some credit.”

“Are we to be privy to your plan?”

He shakes his head.  “Best not.  Should we be asked for our opinion, it will be better for you to have a clean, honest answer.  I’ll take care of it.”

Josie smirks.  “This is the closest we’ve had to Leliana being here since her coronation.”

“Indeed.  Now, to these plans the Inquisitor wants to implement.”

Josie scoops up her board and begins making a list of some sort.  “How will she feel about your plan?”

“I’ll ask her if you feel I should, but I think she’ll simply be happy when Ferelden backs down.”

She hums.  “I’m not sure her plan will succeed if they close ranks as you say they will.”

“It’ll work.  Honestly, it might make both royals show up to the event in an attempt to secure our forgiveness and support since Shea is both mage and ruler right now.”

Cassandra folds her arms and nods.  “Normally, I would be hesitant to oust her as a mage, but after hearing Dorian describe how they treated her in Ferelden and in her delicate state no less…”  she covers her mouth.  “Cullen, I’m sorry.  I know we’re not supposed to mention…”

“It’s fine, Cassandra, as long as she’s not in the room.  It is a very good point and only supports this plan.”

“I agree.  So what do we need to do to get this going?”

The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening planning this banquet and the trip to Haven on the actual day.  Once they had adjourned for the night, Cullen heads for his office.  He can’t bring himself to sleep in their room when she isn’t there.  He doesn’t really know why, maybe it just feels big and empty without her, and he’s sure that she’d be angry with him if she knew he slept in his drafty loft in her absence.  Once inside the tower, he locks all the doors. 

He’s had another idea on how to help her but he’s worried.  It’s been a long time since he’s welcomed the Fade into his mind.  He prays every night when she’s away that his nightmares will stay away.  It wasn’t an issue when she was sleeping beside him. Her ability to dream walk has saved him more times than he can count, but even before that, feeling her beside him gave him so much comfort that he was hardly bothered by them.

If she were having nightmares and he could get someone to knock her out, either with magic or by force, then he could try to find her.  To save her from a distance.  I would be hard, but she’d do it for him.

He sits at his desk and opens a drawer.  He removes the contents and the false bottom.  He reaches deep down and retrieves a vial of that thick potion Solas made for her long ago.  He’s been saving it for an emergency.  He figured she’d never notice that he’d stolen it from the box under their bed.  He recalls a conversation he had with Solas regarding the potion and pulls the tiny leather pouch from the drawer.  He sets both on the desk.  He realizes he has one more errand to run before turning in for the night.

He takes up his quill and writes a quick note on a scrap of paper.  He blows on it until it is dry and quickly walks towards their room.  He stops short and is happy to see that Sky is sleeping soundly in her cage on the landing.  He pulls off a glove and reaches forward to scratch her head as he has seen Shea do countless times.  The bird wakes with a ruffle of her feathers.  He holds up the rolled up piece of paper.  “I need to borrow you.”

She hops out of the cage and offers her leg to him.  He shakes his head.  The bird’s intelligence still bothers him from time to time.  “Take this to Dorian.  And don’t let anyone see you.”  She waits from him to slip the paper into the tube on her leg before sticking her head out for another scratch.  He obliges and she opens a tiny rift, flying away to do her job.  It snaps closed behind her.

He turns on his heel and travels all the way back to his office.  Double checking the security of the locks before scooping the pouch and vial off his desk.  He climbs the ladder to his dusty loft and places the vial and pouch on his side table.  He changes from his armor and pulls an old pair of pants from under the pillow.  He plops down on the bed, sending a small cloud of dust into the air, which drifts through the hole in his roof.  The hole that he has insisted remain despite the repairs to every other section of Skyhold. 

He picks up the vial and carefully pulls the stopper.  He sets it back down carefully before lifting the pouch.  He opens the little flap and reaches his index and thumb into the tiny bag.  He pinches the contents and slowly produces long strand of auburn hair.  He sets the pouch down and picks up the vial.  He carefully threads the hair into the opening and lowers it in until it is completely inside.  He grabs up the stopper and replaces it.  He holds in between his middle finger and thumb, using his middle finger to make sure the stopper is secured.  He rotates the vial slowly, letting the viscous liquid surround and eventually dissolve the hair. This takes a few minutes and he hopes it will be enough time for her to get to sleep or put to sleep as the case may be.

The hair, a physical piece of her, is supposed to aid him as he enters the Fade.  He’ll be drawn to her and should wake in the Fade relatively close to wherever she is.  It was Solas’s theory anyway and there is only one way to find out.

He settles into bed, covering his lower body with his blanket and leaning against the headboard.  He slowly takes in the potion as he was instructed what felt like ages ago.  It is viler than he remembers and it crawls down his throat.  But his determination to help her, even at a distance, far outweighs his discomfort. Once he has downed it, he slides further into his bed and stares up at the night sky through the hole in his ceiling.  He has no idea what her nightmare is about and he is worried that he won’t actually be much help.  If she is as engulfed in the dream as he gets or the way she described the being that trapped her in her nightmare, then he isn’t sure what he’ll be able to do.  This mood of doubt and determination urge him to close his eyes, before he gets lost in the conflicting feelings.  Sleep takes him quickly with the aid of the potion.

When his eyes opens, he is in a foggy meadow.  Other than the sickly green hue to the air, much like Haven under the open Breach on a foggy day, it all seems peaceful.  Looking down at himself, he sees that he is wearing the clothes from his birthday celebration at Montsimmard.  A nice shirt made of expensive maroon fabric with black pants and boots.  He hates that he’s unarmed despite how peaceful everything feels.

He glimpses a dirt path leading into the fog.  He takes a deep breath before surging forward.  She is here somewhere, suffering a nightmare that has been robbing her of sleep.  The thick fog is practically suffocating as he makes his way along this path.  He is only able to see just enough of it in front of him to be able to follow it.  Time drags as he walks, searching for his love, and in that whole time he doesn’t encounter a single being.  No spirits or demons.  For which he is grateful.

The green hue beings to give way to yellow.  Then white.  The light is almost blinding.  He raises his hold in front of his face to block the light.  He has to stumble and shuffle forward along the path in order to find his way.  The mist of the fog dissipates and he feels the warm sun on his face.  A soft chuckle hits his ears.  It is clearly her laugh.  She’s enjoying herself?  He slowly lowers his hand and blinks as his eyes adjust to the bright light.  She is smiling at him.

His brow knits together and he purses his lips.  “Nightmare huh?”

She flops back down into the tall grass that sways gently in a breeze of unknown origin.  Her auburn hair splays out around her, wild in her evident joy at being where she is.

“I hope you aren’t angry.”

“An explanation would be nice.”

She turns her head and pats the ground beside her.  “Join me?”  He looks down at his nice clothes.  “I can change them if you want.”

“What?”

She chuckles.  “I built this place.  As well as the appearance of the things inside it.  Thus…”  She waves her hand towards him.  “I do enjoy the way those pants hug your… assets…”

He can’t help but smile.  “Sera has been rubbing off on you again.”

She snorts.  “She wishes.”

“What?”

“Nothing.  Do you want to wear that or something more comfortable?”

“This is fine.  Matches whatever that is that you’re wearing.”

She looks down at the shear lavender dress, only opaque enough to cover her private areas.  It is long but it drapes across her bent knees leaving her wrapped feet and calves exposed.  “This looks formal to you?”

“Not formal per se.  Just a little dressy.”

She shakes her head.  “Cullen.  What exactly are you seeing because that is not what I was going for?”

His eyes roam her body.  “A purple dress.  Like the ones you bought a while ago.  With the laces up the sides.”

“Huh.  Weird.”

She sits up and closes her eyes.  The light intensifies and he feels her magic surround him.  He closes his eyes.  He trusts her completely but he doesn’t trust the fade.  He can feel the clothes on his body morphing.  The shirt turns from form fitting to billowy and loose.  He can feel the breeze passing through the thin fabric.  He feels a curl fall onto his forehead.  His feet become bare and his toes curl into the soft grass.  If the pants change, he can feel no difference.  The light burns red behind his closed lids, like looking at the sun with your eyes closed.  But with the shift of the wind, the light fades and his eyes open.  He looks down at himself.  The pants are the same, but he is barefoot and his white shirt reminds him of something out of one of Cassandra’s books, particularly the ones Varric writes.  He looks up to her and takes in the very seductive looking dress.  It both hugs her and flows around her.  He wishes she owned something like that in the waking world.

Her eyes are still closed and she has laid back down in the grass.  Without a word, she pats the ground beside her.  He sighs, running his fingers through his now curly hair.  He strolls forward, still not trusting all of this, and folds himself to sit beside her.

She reaches over and threads her fingers with his.  She tugs slightly and he takes the hint.  He lays down beside her.  They lay there for a long while.  He watches the clouds drift by overhead.  All the while, she strokes and rubs their fingers together.  He has to admit that it is easy to forget he is in the fade when they are like this.  Casual, loving, just together.  With no distractions.  Maybe that is the point in all this.  To get a moment of peace alone with him in a place that they can’t be disturbed.  If that is the motivation, he supposes he could tolerate being lied to.

“Not going to ask again then?”

He smirks.  “I was just thinking that I might not.”

“Enjoying yourself then?”

“Surprisingly, yes. Never thought it was possible to enjoy being in the Fade, but here we are.”

“I needed a break.”

“Oh?”

He feels her rolls onto her side and looks over at her.  She rests her head on her bicep, her hand resting on the back of her neck or tangling into her hair, he can’t be certain.  Her free hand traces the plains of his forearm, but the depths of her oceans are focused on his face.  “Dorian didn’t lie.  I have been losing sleep.  But not because of nightmares.”  She holds up her left hand.  He instantly grabs it and sits up to better study it.

“The mark…”

“Is still there, I’ve just turned the light off, so to speak.”

“Meaning.”

“If the mark didn’t glow, that’s what it would look like. It’s so bright that no one can ever get a good look at it.  To what it is doing to my skin.  Only in the Fade am I able to do this.  I’ve… been monitoring it since… anyway, I figured out that I could alter its appearance.  Not for very long mind you, because it will not be ignored.  All I’ve ever been able to do is turn off the light.”

She winces as he gently touches her palm.  The skin of her palm in inflamed.  Not just around the mark, but practically her whole palm.  The cut across her palm looks fresh even though it has been there for roughly two years.  He remembers examining her palm back then and recalls it looking like she sliced her hand with a dagger.  Even though it was hard to see, that was his impression.  But the skin left like old parchment.  Now, it is larger.  Taking up more surface area than it had before.  And though it looks even fresher, the wound deep red and sticky looking, the wide open cut does not leak any blood.  He looks over at her.  Her eyes still trained on his face, watching his examination.  “It’s larger?”

She nods.  “It’s gradual.  But yes.  It is expanding.”

“But the Breach?  You closed it.  Why then is it growing again?”

She shakes her and pulls hand from his.  She places her hand on his face.  “I don’t know.  But I fear that without the Breach… or Solas… nothing will stop its spreading.”

The wind is taken out of his sails and he falls backward on the grass.  She watches a range of emotions flutter across his face.  Rage.  Despair.  Heartbreak.  Concern.  She sees tear well up in his eyes only to recede moments later.  “So… it’s… killing you?  Again?”

“I don’t think it ever stopped.  But the pain is about the same.  No change there.  Just the appearance of it in the fade.”  She releases the magic she has placed on it and the green glow returns.  She holds her hand up to him.  “See?  It looks the same as it did.”

“But the impact of your flesh is getting worse.  It’s only a matter of time before the magic fills the new hole.”

“If it works that way.”

“I think it does.  That orb placed the mark on your hand and the Breach in the sky.  They were tied together.  When the Breach grew, so too did the mark.  And not just the glow of it, which is just a manifestation of the constant magic flowing through it, the physical impact grew.  The cut grew and the magic filled it.  It was one pulse.  One happening right on top of the other so it seemed simultaneous, but I don’t think it was.”

She traces his jaw with the light brushes of her fingertips.  “You’ve been thinking about this a lot it seems.”

“Not recently.  It’s just what I observed while the Breach was open, but didn’t feel it was worth mentioning since we already knew it was killing you. I just… I thought we were past that.  To learn that we might not be…”

“Sweetheart, I’m not saying it’s killing me again.  And honestly this wasn’t the point of getting you into the Fade with me.  Let’s not dwell on it, alright?  I need a break from all this veil, mark, and rift research.”

He turns his head to look at her.  He reaches up and cradles her jaw.  He runs his thumb across her lips and down her chin.  “I can’t lose you.”

She smiles with her lips together, the softness of her expression making his heart swell.  “And you won’t.”  She moves in closer to him.  He lifts his arm to allow to press herself against his side.  She looks up at him, her face rests on his shoulder.  He wraps his arm around her, bringing his hand to rest on her ribs.  His thumb still traces her lips.  “Whatever happens in the future, you will never lose me.  I will fight tooth and nail to stay with you.”

“And I will fight tooth and nail to keep you with me.”

She smiles in earnest.  The creases of her eyes wrinkling slightly.  She’s aged so very much in the time he’s known her.  He imagines that’s what people think of him.  He knows that all templars look older than they are, and the trials of his life have not been easy on his body and mind.  But seeing the little crow’s feet on her, he knows her life has been just a full of hardships.  Even the threat of losing her makes him itch.  He bends his head down and presses a heavy kiss on her forehead.  She hums and snuggles into him.  Her legs entwine with his.  When he breaks the kiss, she curls her head down to rest on his chest and her hand traces his collar bone.  Closing his eyes, he can almost forget where he is.  It’s just the two of them laying in a sun soaked field, content to just lay there for the rest of his days.  He snakes his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck.  Pressing her to him even further.  She sighs contentedly.  A sound that hasn’t come from her in such a long time.  At least it feels that way.  The stresses of her day, her responsibilities to the world, the Inquisition, all of it just falls away.  And he knows that nothing exists to her except him.

He has no idea how long they lay there, wrapped in each other.  Simply enjoying being close to each other.  She shifts and his eyes open.  “Sun’s coming up.”

She looks down at him.  Her features glowing in the artificial light.  He cups her face.  “Stay with me a little longer.”

She smiles.  “The potion is already wearing off.  You’ll leave me before we can properly say goodbye, if we don’t resolve to depart now.”

He pulls her face to his.  The warmth of her lips making his heart swell.  “I wish this were real.”

She smiles.  “What happens in the Fade is no less real than what happens in the Waking world.”

He chuckles and presses his forehead against hers.  “You sound like Solas.”

“After experiencing the things he’s described, I have to agree.  Yes, the Fade is impacted by my presence, and it can be distorted some by time and emotions, but you can’t tell me that this doesn’t feel real.”

“It doesn’t because our responsibilities would have interfered long before now.”

“And they are still.  I will say that I hope to get back a few days before this… ceremony thing.”

“No business.  This time is just for us.”

She smiles and presses her lips to his.  “I like the idea of that.”

“Are we making this a nightly affair then?”

“If you like.  Though I’m not sure you have the supplies.”

“I will figure something out.”

She pulls away and kneels beside him.  He presses up on his elbows.  She reaches down at runs her thumb down his scar.  “I love you.”

“I love you.”

She grabs his face and kisses him long and hard.  He relishes it.  His hands reach for her and his eyes open.  He sits up and is in his bed.  The sun has just started to break through the clouds and the rays make the dust in the air dance.  He falls back onto the bed.  He feels a longing deep within him to be with her again.  He wasn’t ready.  His heart aches to be close to her again.  But he has duties that require his attention.  He sits up again and realizes that this is the most rested he’s felt in ages.  The aches and pains he normally feels upon waking aren’t there.  At least not yet.  He stretches his arms above his head before rolling to his feet.  He makes finding the things he needs to reunite with her again in the Fade a priority before getting ready for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED August 3, 2018
> 
> I will be starting Ch 30 when I get back from the dentist. Once I figure out some things, I will work up a posting schedule to keep myself on track. I would love to know if anyone is still reading this. If you are, please comment. It's been so long since I've gotten anyway feedback. Well... at least it feels that way. Love you all! And thanks again for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment! It's greatly appreciated!
> 
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